Blindside
by notmanos
Summary: While Logan is searching for his past in London, the men after him kidnap one of the X Men.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer:The character of Logan & all X Men is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics.No copyright infringement intended. Bob is mine, damn it! 

N.B.: Takes place shortly after the "X Men" movie, and "Shattered". 

    BLINDSIDE 

    1 

    He knew there was something wrong when Storm didn't answer her comm,but Scott still hadn't expected to find her dead in the hallway. 

"Shit,"he muttered,quickly whispering into his comm,"Jean,we need to regroup." 

He headed back down the darkened hallway,but paused when he realized she had yet to reply."Jean?" 

Even in the dim cast of the emergency lighting,he could see a scorch mark on the wall,where Storm had probably tried to hit him with a lightning bolt,but either somehow missed,or it simply hadn't been enough to stop him.Bastard! 

But he couldn't have gotten Jean-she could read his mind,detect him before he struck.Right? 

He heard a noise at the end of the hall,somewhere around the bend of the corridor,and he raised a hand to his visor,ready to fire,listening carefully. 

He still didn't know how he had cut main power or interfered with the back up generators.Maybe he had some outside help.If that was true,could they be expecting more company? 

He saw a shadow enshrouded figure run across the mouth of the hall,and he instantly fired,the red beam of light illuminating the corridor in a brief splash of crimson,but he wasn't completely sure he had hit his target, as fast as he was.He only knew he'd taken a good sized chunk out of the wall. 

He listened before proceeding slowly down the hall.He heard nothing:no tell tale creak of steps on the floorboards,no heavy or even light foot falls,no gasps for breath.He couldn't have missed him-he couldn't move that fast. 

Still,Scott crept towards the mouth of the corridor cautiously,not sure if he was alone.How could he be to get the drop on Storm and possibly Jean? 

He peeked around the corner,and saw no sign of him:crumpled on the floor,standing,lurking in the shadows, running away.And he realized with a cold shock that not only had he missed him,but he must have run on, deeper into the mansion,towards the student's quarters."Shit,"he cursed under his breath,darting down the hall. 

He was barely four steps inside when he remembered his opponent wasn't necessarily limited to using the floor- 

He heard the thud of footsteps as his enemy dropped down from the ceiling (where he must have been hanging by his claws) behind him,and he heard that strange metallic sound right beside his ear."Through the back of the skull,"Logan growled."You're dead." 

"Stop!Stop the sim!"Scott shouted,and his order was obeyed,the dark walls of the mansion melting away to reveal a silver metal walled room,not unlike Cerebro.But this one was essentially the real world equivalent of a holodeck,a room sized virtual reality simulator,and when everything had melted away,he found himself standing in the center of the so called 'Danger Room',surrounded by Jean,Storm,and Logan,all of them wearing their everyday clothes as opposed to uniforms. 

"What's the problem?"Storm asked,crossing her arms over her chest."Other than the fact that we all died." 

"He's a sore loser,"Logan said gruffly,looking strangely uncomfortable. 

Scott scowled at him."You cheated,that's what the problem is." 

Logan looked at him sharply,his green eyes narrowing into slits."What the fuck did you just say?" 

"Logan,"Jean said,quickly stepping forward,ready to insert herself between them if Logan decided to get physical."Calm down."She then gazed at him with a doubtful frown."Why do you say that,Scott?" 

"Because there's no way in hell he could have gotten the drop on you,"he pointed out.Jean seemed to defend Logan a lot,but he hoped she wasn't going to start lying for him."And how did he disable both power systems in such a short amount of time?" 

"Grenade took care of the outer connection,"Logan said through gritted teeth.He looked like a snarling dog."I cut the leads to the generator myself." 

"And he did get the drop on me,"she admitted sheepishly."I still don't know how.I didn't sense his thoughts before he jumped me." 

That was an interesting choice of words.She instantly grimaced,but Logan seemed willing to ignore it.Oddly chivalrous for him."I didn't think,I just acted.It's hard,but it works against telepaths." 

"Yes,it does.And you scared the hell out of me." 

Logan glanced at her,looking chagrined."Sorry." 

"I almost got you,"Storm said proudly. 

Logan nodded,all embarrassment on his face-if it ever was there-disappearing in an instant."The fog was a nice touch." 

"But more atmospheric then anything else,"she conceded."I should have gone with the wind storm." 

Storm had filled the corridors with fog,so she could easily keep track of Logan's movement within them,but he seemed to find a way around it.Logan seemed to find a way around everything,which was suspicious in itself. 

"I asked him to examine the grounds for security flaws,"the Professor said,as the large metal doors to the room slid open.His motorized wheelchair moved forward smoothly,almost without a sound,and his penetrating gaze seemed to take them all in at once."I knew we had some since the attack by both Legion and the League,but I had no idea we had so many.This was very informative,Logan.Thank you." 

He just grunted an acknowledgment,crossing his arms over his chest and glancing down at the metal floor, looking like a kid embarrassed by his father's effusive praise."It's what you asked me to do." 

"But you're assuming anyone who comes after us is the same breed of homicidal maniac Logan is,"Scott snapped,regretting it the instant he said it.It sounded petty and childish,and that wasn't the message he wanted to send. 

"Scott!"Jean exclaimed,horrified. 

Logan just chuckled,but in a low,humorless,dangerous way."If I was really a homicidal maniac,'Clops,I really would have put my claws through your skull." 

But it was the look the Professor gave him that really made him feel humiliated.The Professor was like a father to him,and he had clearly pissed him off and disappointed him."If you cannot set aside your personal issues,Scott,perhaps you should take a break from being the team leader,"Xavier suggested,his voice both arch and cold. 

He shook his head,looking down at the floor:it was his turn to be embarrassed."No,I'm just...frustrated. Logan, I'm-" 

But Logan walked past him,'accidentally' hitting him so hard with his shoulder he knocked Scott back a step as he lumbered past the Professor and walked out the open doors."Yeah,whatever,"Logan said disinterestedly before he disappeared from view,not even bothering to look back. 

"Scott,we are trying to make him feel more welcome here,remember?"Jean hissed,as if afraid Logan might still be able to hear. 

'Well,he's not,'he thought,but didn't say.Instead,he said,"Sorry,but he gets on my nerves sometimes.And Professor,if you allowed yourself to be included in the scenario,Logan never would have made it past the front gate." 

"This was a worst case scenario,Scott,"The Professor said patiently,steepling his hands beneath his chin. There was still a fragment of the disappointment in his pale blue eyes."It had to be assumed I was incapacitated in some way.Even so,I didn't expected Logan's infiltration of the mansion to be committed so easily." 

"He probably wasn't the best subject for it,"Storm said."He's hard to incapacitate seriously for any length of time." 

"It can be done,"Scott insisted."It's just that there's kind of a trick to it." 

"There was a trick to incapacitating Legion as well,if I remember correctly,"Jean admitted ruefully."But Storm does have a point,Professor.Logan is a born infiltrator.Things that would incapacitate most mutants-and demons-don't even faze him." 

"But that's why it was important we run this scenario with him:Legion nearly killed all of you and destroyed the school,and the League employed demons not affected by telepathy,and not stopped by much else.If Logan was easy to stop,it wouldn't be much of a test,would it?"He gave them all a wry smile,fine lines bunching in the corners of his eyes."You all did very well.Consider this yet another one of Logan's no win scenarios,  
until,of course,we find a way to win." 

Logan hadn't been hanging around for long,just twelve days that felt like twelve years.He'd put together several 'programs' to run the students through-it turned out he had knack for creating these scenarios-but it was a fight at first,because he generally made them far too bloody.At least the Professor agreed with him that there could be no 'final' (lethal) solutions in any of the fight simulations,and Logan very reluctantly relented.   
But the programs were still too violent and scary for the kids,at least as far as Scott was concerned. 

Of course this sim,of a mansion attack,was for them alone,so it could be lethal,and was:Logan breached the security and killed them all,picking them all off one by one.It was so frustrating Scott felt like punching something. 

It was up to him to work on beefing up security,he knew that,but he also knew the Professor would expect him to work in concert with Logan on it,and that really bugged him.So Logan was good at hurting and killing things-what a shock. 

As he walked down the hall,Jean came up beside him,sliding her arm in his."You shouldn't brood,Scott.You'll set a bad example."She teased. 

"I am not-"he began,the sighed.Hiding things from Jean was impossible,even when she didn't use her telepathy."I don't like him,Jean." 

"I know,"she sighed,leaning her head against his shoulder as she tightened her grip on his arm."If it's any consolation,he doesn't like you either." 

"Wow,really?I'd never have guessed." 

They continued into the elevator,and as it rose up to the 'ground' floor hallway,he said,"I'm trying,Jean,I really am,but he makes it really hard.I mean,I'm the leader here,but he undermines my authority every chance he gets." 

"It's not always deliberate,Scott.He's just used to doing things his own way.Being part of a group dynamic is new to him;he's still trying to adjust." 

He couldn't help but notice her use of the words 'not always deliberate',and grunted in a sort of dark humor as the elevator stopped and the door opened on the ground floor atrium.The orange light of the setting sun flooded in through the skylight,making the polished wood  of the hall gleam a rich reddish brown,There was no denying this was a pretty place to call home."If it's any consolation,Scott,I think he's going to be leaving soon." 

"As opposed to him always being here?"He noted sarcastically.Logan seemed to treat this place like a job-as soon as he was done,he was gone.Usually as soon as he was done with the scenarios or teaching the kids self-defense techniques,he took the bike and went off,usually to the nearest town,usually to a bar.He usually came back by closing time,but sometimes he came back much earlier,and sometimes he didn't come back at all.The first time it happened,Scott had hoped-unkindly,yes-that he'd finally got himself killed in a bar fight,but he came back in the morning with rumpled clothing,smelling vaguely of women's perfume.So not only did he go bar hopping and occasionally fighting,he went whoring too.Lovely.Could the guy get more appealing? 

And the absolute worst part was the kids seemed to adore him.Several of the girls seemed to have a crush on him (Rogue was the unfortunate ringleader of that brigade),and several of the boys thought he was 'cool' or something like that.They feared his classes-Logan was a tough 'teacher'-but they were in general awe of him.The ruder,gruffer,and more anti-social he was,the more his 'fan club' seemed to grow.It was absolutely maddening.Scott wanted him off the staff because he was setting a horrible example-his worst nightmare was the kids trying to imitate him,and getting themselves killed for it. 

The Professor was trying to push the 'unity' angle,though.Last night they had all eaten dinner together,and what a disaster that was.It wasn't unusual for him and Jean to join the Professor and Storm for dinner,but Jean had cajoled Logan into joining them,and the whole thing was painfully awkward from the get go.Logan sat at the table like he was a kidnap victim tied to his chair,looking down sullenly at his plate and hardly speaking two words all evening,even when the Professor and Jean tried in vain to bring him into the conversation.He hardly ate anything either,just picked at his food like he wasn't used to using utensils.As soon as he could,he made an excuse to leave,and as soon as Logan was gone,it was like this dark, oppressive weight had been taken from the room.He wasn't the only one who got that impression,as the Professor began asking Jean what kind of problems Logan had been having,especially adjusting to living here.He seemed to think he was depressed,or possibly even 'claustrophobic' around so many people.Scott just figured Logan was being his usual charming self. 

Jean squeezed his arm,and said softly,"Come on,Scott.You can't tell me you have no sympathy for him,not knowing what he went through.He probably has-no,I'm sure he does have-a bad case of post traumatic stress disorder.He's doing very well,considering." 

"Oh yeah,sure,except for all the screaming." 

They had more soundproof paneling put in the ducts leading to and from Logan's room,because when he was here everyone knew about it:he still woke up screaming most nights.But since what happened to Rogue, no one rushed to go wake him up or check on him.What was there to check up on anyways?He was fine,for now.All the damage had been done to him already. 

And Scott had to admit he felt bad for him there,when he thought about it.How awful did something have to be for a macho,Clint Eastwood wannabe asshole like Logan to wake up screaming like a kid dreaming about the boogeyman?And not just once in a while,but just about every night?Jean said they had operated on him without drugs,possibly because his system rejected medication so quickly.Or perhaps because they wanted him to suffer.While Scott could sympathize with that position too (oh,come on,who didn't want to just slug Logan and make it stick now and again?),that was just too much.Maybe if he'd been cut open and rearranged while being forced to witness it,he wouldn't be the most pleasant guy to be around either. 

Just the other night,something woke him up-he still didn't know what:maybe Logan had one of his screamers again-but he thought he heard someone in the hall,and figured it was one of the kids sneaking out.They were teenagers-they lived to break curfews.It was almost a rite of passage. 

But once out in the main hall,he could feel a cold breeze,and wondered if one of them had left a door or window open.Really bad form if you were sneaking out (although that meant it was definitely not Kitty-when she snuck out,she just walked through the wall). 

He followed the breeze to what the Professor jokingly called the 'sun room',as it was a dining room off the main kitchen with huge double glass doors leading out into the back garden.Because of that,the room was flooded with light in the early morning,so much so that a painting over the sideboard had to be removed because it was being slowly sunbleached. 

Scott had reached the room but not entered when he saw,courtesy of the full moon outside (there were no lights turned on),someone standing in the open doorway,looking out into the garden.He could only see a silhouette,but the hair gave it away as Logan,standing there in only his pajamas pants,seemingly oblivious to the cold,looking out at nothing. 

Scott noticed Logan's shoulders tense,and he realized,even though he never turned around and the breeze was blowing in his face,Logan somehow knew he was there.He hadn't made any noise,and could he actually  
smell him when the wind was against him? 

Logan didn't turn around,though,didn't acknowledge him in any way at all:he seemed to be waiting for him to make a move,or say something first.But Scott wanted to see Logan as much as Logan wanted to see him,so he just turned and left,pitying any poor kids who may have snuck out earlier.Although Logan wouldn't give a good god damn,just seeing him and assuming he was waiting to ream them out would probably be enough to scare them straight for the rest of the year. 

On the way back to his and Jean's room,he felt a sudden,inexplicable wave of pity for Logan.He didn't belong here,but,to be fair,he didn't belong anywhere.He was like some strange refugee,not only of time and society but of life:he didn't have one,and probably never would.It must have been shitty to be Logan.Still,that was no reason to take it out on the rest of them. 

Almost as an afterthought,he asked,"Did Logan say he was going somewhere?" 

Jean shook her head."No,but he doesn't have to.It's just a feeling I get." 

He nodded,accepting that-you could bet money on Jean's feelings.But he wished the majority of them weren't about Logan. 

** 

Washington,D.C. 

    Control was about to leave for the day when Doctor Burton came in,knocking only the millisecond before he opened the door (which was typical for him-the man must have been raised in a barn)."What is it now?" Control sighed,standing up and shrugging on his jacket.He'd be damned if he was going to let this geek keep him from a much needed stiff drink. 

The neurotic scientist could have come straight from Central Casting:tall and funereal,he was as skinny as a scarecrow and sort of resembled one,with a gleaming bald scalp like a light bulb and pale grey eyes always hidden behind ludicrously thick glasses that could have doubled as safety goggles.Whenever Control saw him,he seemed to be wearing the same wardrobe-black slacks,black tie,brown loafers,white shirt nearly always rumpled,all beneath a white lab coat-and today was no exception. 

"We finished recovering the data from the Big Empty black box." 

"You finished last month,"he reminded him.The 'black box' was actually a shielded computer hard drive,and should have survived self-destruct with no damage,but there was some electrical damage that hampered data recovery.The presence of Electra,perhaps. 

"Not reconstructing the information,no,"Burton said,pushing his huge glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose."And we discovered something I thought you might like to know as soon as possible.Doctor Kruger did successfully implant the neural device in subject Wolverine before the base was destroyed." 

It was an effort of will to keep his jaw from dropping,or to show any emotion at all.It wasn't conducive to employee morale to scream at them and toss them out on their ass for being complete and utter morons,but he was desperate to do so.He forced himself to take a deep breath through his nose,but it didn't help. 

"Logan's had a neural implant for months,and we didn't know?"He said through gritted teeth. 

"There was severe damage to the records,sir." 

"I know that."Control had to keep from yelling,could feel a vein pulsing in his temple.His blood pressure had probably gone up a hundred points."Was it tested?Did the implant take successfully?" 

Burton shrugged,making his glasses slide down his nose again.The light shining off his bald pate was almost blinding."There wasn't enough time.The implantation was done an hour and twenty three minutes before the escape of the subjects and subsequent explosion of the base." 

His heart rate began to slow bit by bit,the roaring of his blood in his ears dying down to a low white noise."So it may not have taken." 

"Possibly not.The only way to tell would be to get within proximity of the subject and see if we could trigger it." 

"Well duh,"he snapped,trying to recall where Logan had been last spotted.Hadn't he been spotted in upstate New York a couple of weeks ago? 

He decide to put Colonel Harris on a Wolverine hunt right away It was high past time they learn if Wolverine was going to come back to the fold. 

    2 

    Logan leaned his forehead against the blue tiles of the shower stall,letting the warm water roll down his back,and wondered,for the thousandth time of the week,why he was letting imaginary obligations to dead people rule his life. 

Okay,Naomi wasn't physically dead,but same damn difference. 

But because he felt he owed her-them-something for failing them,he had come here to pretend to be a hero. He really didn't know how much more he could take.He was going crazy-well,crazier.He so did not belong here,it was becoming painful.And Xavier's attempts to try and include him were obvious and almost made him feel sorry for himself,which he absolutely abhorred.And trying to get a little privacy around here seemed almost impossible-people were everywhere!He felt kind of bad for the kids,though.They were so ill prepared for the violent realities that would greet them outside the gates of the school.Some already knew, having been on the wrong end of angry groups at one point or another,but they still seemed at a loss as to how to defend themselves.He did the best he could to help them,but he wasn't sure it would ever be enough. 

And if he saw Scott and Jean being all 'couply' again he was going to get physically ill.It was all such a lie too: Jean claimed to love him,but she didn't want him.And he almost felt bad for the chump because he didn't seem to be aware of it,and he hated feeling anything for Scott except a low grade contempt.In a way,Jean and Scott deserved each other,and not necessarily in a good way. 

And they wondered why he left all the time.If he didn't,he might hurt someone.It was also painful and insane: he knew he had to go before he couldn't hide his frustration anymore. 

He tried,he really did,but he was not a team player (big shock).And while they meant well-could they mean more well?- he just couldn't do this any more.He didn't know what he was going to do,but not this.Maybe he could check in now and again,but this simply couldn't be his home. 

He straightened up,sure he heard a noise and smelled someone,and he quickly threw back the semi- translucent frosted white shower curtain,ready to pop his claws (he'd jammed a wedge under the door so no one could get in-he couldn't seem to get enough privacy),only to see Bob standing in the bathroom doorway. 

"Chill,mate,it's just me,"he said,holding up his hands.He then gave him a curious glance,and said, "Whoa. Helga wasn't kidding,was she?" 

Logan growled at him,looking away briefly to turn off the taps."Bob,get the fuck-" 

But Bob was gone when he turned back,although the bathroom door was still ajar.A lamp was on in his bedroom,though,and he hadn't turned one on when he came in. 

Angrily shaking the wet hair from his eyes,he yanked a towel off the rack,wrapped it around his waist,and stormed out to kick Bob's ass."Haven't they heard of knocking in your dimension?"He snapped. 

Bob was,for some reason,looking in his wardrobe closet."Ammy talked me into giving the teleport thing one more try by myself-she gets tired of zappin' me places.And while I think I can stick dimensions,I was a little off in my aim and materialized in your bathroom,and you detected me before I could get out."He finally looked at him over his shoulder,giving him that patented Bob smile."Look at it this way:could have been worse." 

Logan glared at him."Did you pop in so I could beat the shit out of you?" 

Bob laughed,shutting the closet doors."Ah,I see we're in our usual good mood.The teamwork thing not working out?" 

"I ain't a people person." 

"No,really?"He continued to give him that shit eating grin that he just wanted to carve off his face.But he suddenly sobered,and said,"Considering what people have done to ya,mate,I don't think anyone could blame you." 

Now here was a subject he didn't want to talk about.He started pulling clothes out of his drawers,and said, "What do you want,Bob?" 

Bob leaned against the closet door and studied him with a scrutiny that was unnerving.For the first time in seemingly ever,Bob was not wearing leather pants;he was wearing jeans this time,worn and faded,as if they were almost as old as he was.He wore a dark green tank top too,showing off both his muscles and his tan, and for all intense and purposes he could have been doing yard work when he decided his week was not complete without zapping across the country to bug the shit out of Logan.He still had his strange biker boots, though.Somewhere,a leather boy was missing his party shoes. 

"I actually found something I thought you might want to know about.Remember that club massacre you dreamed about?" And,as if he had forgotten,he started singing a bit of the song playing in the background of his memory."Mind and body gagged and bound on a new,familiar playing ground-" 

"Yeah,okay,stop the musical,I remember."He said,pulling on his boxers before ripping off his towel and throwing it on the bed.Bob would find excuses to sing.What was that about? 

He turned away from him,pretending to be indecisive about a shirt,before he could dare to ask:"I killed them all,didn't I?" 

"No.See,the song you heard the second time around was "Seattle" by Public Image Limited,off the album "Happy",released in '87,and that was the key to the whole thing.I searched in the whole '87-'88 time frame, which didn't narrow it down all that much,but since I got to see what you saw,I had some more details to work with." 

Logan just glared at him,holding his jeans loosely in his hands."Enough with the shit-what happened and where?" 

Bob sighed,rolling his eyes as if Logan was the biggest trial of his life."It was on the night-or early morning-of June seventh,1987,in a club in the Soho district of London-England,not Ontario-in a club then called Hell. Fifty seven people killed pretty violently,yet it never made the papers and the cops apparently overlooked it somehow,but it was noted by the Council of Watchers,who ascribed it to a massive attack by a nest of vampires or perhaps-because it was a full moon-lycanthropes."He paused briefly,then added, "Werewolves." 

"Yeah,I know what it means,"Logan snapped crossly,pulling on his jeans.He really didn't like a guy watching him as he got dressed-how weird was this?But considering Bob was briefly inhabited his body,he supposed Bob had seen a lot more,and wasn't that an even more unsettling prospect?"But what do you think?" 

"I think vamps would drain blood,not waste it by splattering it around a disco,and why would a pack of werewolves hit a crowded,noisy club?Besides,the memory was stirred by a scent like Legion,and let's face it,werewolves smell like rank,wet dogs." 

Logan nodded,but as he pulled on his t-shirt he paused,struck by a sudden thought."'87?But wasn't that when I was-" 

"Under control of those government assholes?Yeah,I did the math,"Bob agreed. 

Logan felt like he had been brained with a club made of ice,and he had to sit down on the edge of the bed as he could swear his legs had gone numb."I did kill them,didn't I?"His slight sense of panic quickly gave way to a familiar and comforting sense of rage that brought warmth and feeling back to his entire body. 

"No,you didn't." 

"I was some kind of mind fucked killing machine then!How can you say-" 

"Five claws."Bob said quietly. 

His seething anger started to loose steam to confusion,which was also typical around Bob.He sometimes wondered if that was a blessing or a curse."Huh?" 

"Five claws.The British Watchers are really meticulous in their record keeping,as who are they to smash a perfectly good stereotype,and that included wonderful 8x 10 glossy close up photos of the wounds on several victims.Not all of them were clawed to death,but those who were showed the marks of five distinct claws.You just got the three on each hand Logan;even if you put them together,that's six,so it still doesn't track.Wasn't you.You came in after the fact."  
"I didn't think vampires had claws,so why did these Watchers think it was them?" 

"Some vamps really get into their deal,mate.They grow their fingernails long and file 'em into claws.I even knew this crazy bugger who got fake silver tips to put on his nails so they cut more cleanly."Bob held his finger up horizontal to the side of his head and twirled it in a small circle,the universal  gesture of bugfuck nuts.And that did sound a bit dubious to Logan. 

"What happened to him?" 

"Oh,I dusted him,"he replied nonchalantly,dropping his hand to his side."I melted his tips down and had it made into a necklace." 

Was he serious?Logan stared at him,almost asked,and then decided it was better if he never knew for sure. "You said they weren't all clawed to death." 

"No.There was assorted neck breaking,eviscerating,crushed skulls,internal injuries,beer bottle through the brain,that kind of thing."Bob shrugged a single shoulder."Let's face it-even if you were some bad ass assassin,that is not your style,or the style of any assassin I know.That was sheer animalistic brutality." 

"I'm capable of that,"he admitted reluctantly,getting a sour taste in his mouth."Remember those KGB files on Bloody Friday?" 

"That was a crime...er,rampage of passion,Logan.You couldn't have been very sane at the time,and even then,you showed a certain finesse.You are just not a beer bottle through the eye kind of guy." 

Logan snorted derisively,glancing down at the floor so he didn't have to meet Bob's far too blue eyes."You missed your calling as a lawyer." 

"Hey,I resent that,"he protested."Look,mate,maybe it doesn't make you happy to hear it,but no matter how strong you are,sometimes you snap.You lose it,you can't do it anymore,you check out of your head for a holiday.If you're weak,you check out forever,but obviously you're not.So stop being a dick about it:accept, adapt,forgive yourself,move on." 

Logan looked up at him incredulously."Forgive myself?Move on?Bob,I didn't crash a party and make an ass of myself,or even pimp slap the Queen at a charity ball on live t.v. :I hunted down and killed sixty seven people." 

"Sixty five,"he corrected."You and Dayu were counted among the missing and presumed dead." 

"Oh,sixty five-yes,I feel much better now,"he replied sarcastically. 

Bob frowned at him."I never said it was right,just understandable,especially after what they made you do."As soon as he said that,he briefly saw Bob's eyes flare in horror,like he said something he shouldn't have. 

Maybe he had."What?What did they make me do?" 

"Watch your wife die in a really nasty way." 

Logan stared at him,but he didn't even flinch."You're not telling me something." 

"The details of how that poison worked.If you knew,you might flip out again." 

"You're lying." 

"Usually.But not about that." 

Something in Logan told him he didn't want to know.Bob could always force the issue,but he wasn't going to have to,not just yet.The truth he knew was bad enough,and right now,way off topic.He forced himself to think about everything Bob had told him about the Hell massacre,and tried to concentrate on that. 

"So more than one person hit that club,"he said,trying to get his head around it. 

Bob seemed grateful for the change of subject."Most likely." 

"But why?Why just kill a bunch of people?And why did I go there?" 

Bob shrugged with his hands."Got me,mate.Look,all I can tell you is some demons-and mutants,and run-of- the-mill humans-get their jollies off of killing.They don't need a reason or an excuse:just the opportunity." 


	2. Part 2

"Well,I know that,"he snapped,growing more and more obsessed with the fact that he was there.It could have been a coincidence,but he seriously doubted that.No,he was tied into those killings somehow... 

"You're gonna go to London,aren't you?"Bob asked,with a weary sigh. 

'Well,it's away from here',he thought,but didn't say.Although,belatedly,he realized Bob had probably picked it up anyways.Why was he even having a verbal conversation with him? 

"Because I think it's easier all the way around,"Bob said,answering his unspoken question. 

Logan decided he was just giving up."Tell me why I don't kill you again,"he asked,rubbing his eyes wearily. 

" 'Cause I won't let you." 

"Fair enough." 

"What are ya gonna do when you get there?"Bob asked,continuing with the previous topic of conversation."Hand out fliers with your picture on it and ask "Have you ever seen me before"?" 

He shrugged,finishing pulling down his shirt-he forgot he hadn't.Bob was so irritating sometimes he could make him forget what year it was."I don't know.But if I had a past there I have to know what it was." 

"Let me break it down for you,big guy:you were there,in control of the muy muy bad guys.You were probably there on a job for them,meaning most people who saw you are either bad guys themselves,or extremely dead.Do you really want to run into these creeps again?You know they travel in packs." 

"I can handle it." 

"Not always you can." 

Logan glared at him,but since he could glare at him all day and it wouldn't do a damn bit of good,he busied himself putting on his socks."I'll be prepared this time." 

"Yeah,if I go with you-" 

"No fucking way,"he interrupted."I'm going alone." 

"I wouldn't advise that.They'll be expecting you to be alone,and you don't even know London." 

"I'll manage." 

"This isn't like flying the fabuloso X-jet,Logan-you probably wouldn't have a reflex memory of a city." 

Logan looked up at him so fast he almost gave himself whiplash."What the fuck are you talking about?" 

Bob grimaced almost apologetically."You know what I'm talking about,so let's cut the crap,eh?" 

Xavier wanted him to learn about the jet,which Logan couldn't have cared less about,but when he heard Scott dismiss it he had to do just to annoy the Boy Scout.So when he got him in the flight sim,Scott asked him what he knew,and rather than admit to ignorance,Logan just started hitting buttons and flipping switches. 

Scott was looking on in slack jawed shock,and finally Logan couldn't take the suspense anymore."What?Come on,just say it." 

Finally,Scott did."How did you know this?Did Storm tell you?" 

It turned out Logan had done everything right:pre-ignition,ignition,maneuvering thrusters,main engines.He could fly the jet now.And he didn't know how or why any more than Scott.He lamely made the excuse that he must have picked it up from Bob's mind,but that didn't sound quite true even as he said it.It was just another mystery,like speaking Japanese and being able to assemble a rocket launcher.Or being in London just in time to witness a massacre. 

"I need to do this by myself,"he said,not even wanting to have this argument.But what the hell was he supposed to do when he hit London?Maybe it would just be nice to get away from everyone,get some space,even if it was pointless. "You said this club used to be called Hell-what's it called now?" 

Bob made a small noise of amusement,and the way he smiled at him,Logan knew this was going to be bad."It's been renovated several times,but now it's a specialty club." 

He really didn't like the sound of that."Specialty club?" 

"Well,it's a bar called Spank." 

He stopped putting on his boots long enough to stare at him."What?" 

"Yes,I know,I thought that too.It's a sadomasochistic 'gentlemen's club' in a really nasty part of town,for upper class guys to slum and get a bit of guilty pleasure too,getting their bums smacked by women dressed as headmasters as they enjoy their overpriced scotch." 

"You're making this up." 

"No,I'm not.In fact the guys behind Spank made enough money that they're apparently branching out into San Francisco next fall,with a slant for 'American sensibilities',whatever that is.Hel and I thought we might go check it out when it opens,'cause we always need a good laugh.If you're in the area then,maybe you want to join us." 

"Thanks,but I'll pass."He finished lacing up his boots,wondering what possessed some people.Hey,he liked a bit of kink every now and then,but that was just sad.He didn't even want to know the sexually retarded person who'd get off on something like that. 

He stood up and grabbed his leather jacket from the chair,and he could feel Bob giving him a disapproving look.When he turned to face him,he was shaking his head like a disappointed father."I thought you'd do something like this." 

"Good for you,"he replied,heading for the door.Bob moved rather quickly to block the door,holding up his hands as if he wanted to make it clear he didn't want this to break down into a fight."Hear me out here,Logan." 

"All I've been doing is hearing you,"he pointed out irately. 

But Bob didn't seem wildly concerned about that."I have-well,I hesitate to call her a friend.Let's say an acquaintance who's the Watcher who threw me a bone.She also used to be in MI5,and she's using her connections and pulling strings to see if she can find out anything about the Organization or their potential activities in London around '87.She can probably help you out,give you a hand-" 

"I don't need any more help from your friends,Bob." 

"Don't worry,Ruby's no Helga.In fact,she probably wants as much to do with you as you do her." 

"Ruby?"Seemed like a funny name for an MI5 agent.She sounded more like she should be working at Spank. 

"I asked her to keep an eye on you and keep you informed on her investigation." 

"I don't need anyone keepin' an eye on me." 

"Maybe not,but if you need directions,she's the one you want to talk to."Bob reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a very small cell phone,which he promptly held out to him."She's the first programmed number,I'm the second,and don't even think about flushing it down a gas station loo." 

"Found about that,huh?"He really hated cell phones,and so that's what he did to the phone Bob gave him without telling him:flushed it down the john of a pretty nasty gas station bathroom somewhere south of Cour D'Alene,Idaho.He didn't think it would actually go down the drain,but it did.Technology was amazing. 

Bob fixed him with an acrid glare."Don't want the phone,give it back:don't introduce it to a septic system.Got it?" 

He didn't want it,but he knew Bob could force the issue if he wanted,or-worse-use alternate methods of communication that were far more intrusive,so he snatched the cell from his hand and shoved it in his own back pocket."Only if you don't call me all the time." 

"Consider it done.But I expect to hear from you now and again,or I'll expect the worst.Oh,and take this."Bob reached into his front pocket this time,and pulled out something that looked like a small elephant figure carved out of jade. 

"What the hell is that?" 

"An elephant,"he replied,giving him that famous smart ass grin."And a Ganesha fetish.I figured you might need the luck." 

"I don't believe in luck." 

"Neither do I.But that's the general interpretation of 'Nesha's limited power-luck."The remover of obsticles". Actually, what he can do is limit the effects of entropy in a very small area,but believe me,it all helps." 

Logan stared at the jade elephant in Bob's hand,making no move to take it."I still can't believe a Hindu god actually exists." 

"Well,see,the problem is,he's not really a god-he's a jovial sort from a neighboring dimension.Most so called gods actually are:I have yet to meet one who wasn't.But Nesha doesn't get the fuss,and won't come back to this dimension, 'cause people scare him.I explained how some people worshiped him,and he thought that was pretty flattering,but when I tried to explain the Hindu caste system,he got freaked the hell out.He doesn't get people,and I sympathize.Most so called gods,when they find out that people are fighting each other and killing each other over them,they just change their name and hope no one figures it out." 

"Is that what you did?" 

Bob just continued to smile at him."Now,this has a bit of 'Nesha's power in it-he gave it to me as a gift.Take it with you, please,just to keep me from nagging you incessantly." 

"Too late."But he took the jade charm and shoved it in his front pocket,where he knew he'd just forget about it."Can I go now?" 

"One more thing,"he said,taking something out of his other pocket.It was a wad of colorful money he jammed in Logan's coat pocket,without even asking. 

Logan just stared at him."You really did know I was gonna go,didn't you?" 

"You're a nomad,Logan.You can only stay in one place for so long.Good luck,and call me." 

"Yeah,Mo-"he began,but Bob suddenly said something unintelligible,and the entire world seemed to shift nauseatingly around him,and the mansion disappeared. 

"-m,"he finished,as he staggered on a darkened street,the cold night air redolent with car exhaust and cooking oil.He could hear/feel loud music pounding away from a club down the street,a club with a big red neon sign that read 'Spank'.It had a small neon animation of a paddle swinging towards the bottom of the s. 

As the wave of nausea passed,Logan cursed himself.He should have known Bob was going to do that.He just lived to be difficult. 

** 

    Logan had just disappeared-almost literally-when there was a light knock at the door.Bob knew who it was before he bothered to open it."Hey Chuck,"he said,smiling down at the elegant man in the wheelchair. 

Professor Xavier smiled up at him,a hint of pain in his cloudy blue eyes."Hello,Bob.I thought I sensed you."He looked past him curiously,subtly searching the room."Logan's not here?" 

"He just left." 

"Oh?" 

"Yes.He's in London." 

Bob sensed the shock,even through the constant thrumming undercurrent of Xavier's psychic powers.It didn't show on his face,though,not really."England?" 

"Yep.I just teleported him there." 

"Voluntarily?" 

Xavier wasn't quite sure what to think of him.He knew he was inhuman,knew he was dangerous,and yet knew he didn't mean them any harm (and,if he did,what could they do about it?). 

Bob grinned,almost laughing."Yeah.He remembered being in London and finding a club full of dead bodies,and he wanted to investigate it,see if he could get some memories back." 

"Ah,I see."He paused,looking troubled."He never told us." 

"No.You know how he is,though." 

Xavier nodded,glancing down at the floor.He was bothered by the fact that Logan continued to treat them like familiar strangers,assuming that,by now,they should have at least a bit of his trust.But it didn't work that way:Logan didn't really trust him either,but he had no choice since Bob knew so much about him."Give him time,"Bob advised."Logan doesn't accept kindness easily." 

He felt a small surge of anger from Xavier,and knew that he had phrased it wrong."It is not just kindness,Bob.Logan belongs here,whether he realizes it or not." 

"Or Scott." 

"Or Scott,"he agreed wryly. 

After a moment,he told Xavier,"Home is a dangerous word and concept to Logan.The few times he had one in his life... well,my sense is that things turned out quite badly.If it was just him that was hurt,it might not be,but it was never that way.He's afraid to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal and afraid of getting hurt,getting hurt by people dying and it all being his fault.Logan will never admit it-and please don't tell him I told you-but his greatest fear is helplessness.That he will be helpless to stop whatever it is that's going to happen."He didn't add "It's happened before and he doesn't want to see it happen again" because Xavier didn't need to know that.He may have already guessed that part anyways. 

Xavier nodded sagely,almost forgetting how much it hurt to be around him."I've gotten that sense from him,when things seem to be going wrong.There seems to be as much fear as rage."Xavier then gave him an odd look,and asked,"You dyed your hair?" 

He ran a hand through his hair,pulling strands down into his sight range for viewing.They looked more gold than usual, not blonde but positively gilded."Crud,"he muttered,willing the darker bits back.He liked to have a mix of brunette and gold:he thought the contrast was flattering for his skin tone. 

Xavier gave him the oddest look for that.In retrospect,he probably wasn't used to people changing their hair color by thinking about it."You can will your hair color?"The Professor asked,a little awed. 

"Well,yes and no.If I don't pay attention,it can sort of change color on its own." 

Xavier continued to give him a curious look,thinking back on his theory that Bob warped reality by sheer force of will.It was a god like power,wasn't it?And even his own body appeared to be mutable... 

"It's a demon thing,"Bob quickly lied,trying to short circuit that arc of thought.Xavier didn't know enough about demons to know that was crap,and couldn't read him to find out one way or another. 

Xavier knew that too.His look was dubious as he frowned in thought,and made a mental to ask Logan about it when he got back.Bob already knew what he'd say.With a disgusted snort,he'd say,"It's just a Bob thing.Bob's weird." 

And he could never argue with that.But the less Xavier knew that,the more comfortable he was being around him. 

Logan wasn't the only one with secrets.It was just Bob's abilities that let him keep his for as long as he wished. 

    3 

    "Oh man,you have got to be kidding me,"the steroid bulked doorman scoffed,the street light glinting off  the silver ring in his lower lip."You're a joke,right?Did Trevor put you up to this?" 

Logan glowered at the six foot tall,two hundred pound skinheaded dork,and wondered how much damage he could get away with doing to him before the police were called. 

The doorman was very muscular,but in that phony 'I spend all my free time at the gym' sort of way,his thick body enhanced by a grey t-shirt and khaki cargo pants so tight he looked like an overstuffed sausage casing on the verge of exploding.It looked like he had black tribal tattoos on his shaved scalp,but even from here,in this crowd reeking of cigarettes and nervous anticipation,Brut and Sunflowers and hair spray,Logan could smell that they were fake stick on tattoos.The chemical smell was a dead giveaway:real tattoos only smelled of the inks used,with a small infusion of blood. 

His small brown eyes seemed to get lost in the doughy round mass of his face,but the contempt came right through to Logan."I ain't some pathetic trendoid looking for a safe cheap thrill,bub-I just need to see if the inside of the place looks familiar.Then I'm the fuck out of here." 

But the goon didn't even seem to hear him over the throbbing bass bleeding from the closed doors of the club."Are those real?"He asked,reaching out to touch his sideburns. 

Logan grabbed his thick wrist before he could,and then snapped his head forward,giving the idiot doorman a vicious headbutt that knocked him cold instantly.He didn't fall more than flop down on his belly like a violently beached whale, and Logan was sort of disappointed he didn't get to hurt him just a little more. 

Although the crowd behind him was stunned into silence (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately),he didn't bother to look behind him as he stepped over the bouncer and headed through the red painted doors into the club with the really unfortunate name of Spank. 

The techno music was loud enough to kill small mammals,and even Logan felt like he had been briefly stunned,his eardrums threatening to shatter like Legion was screeching at him again.But it was better than looking at the place: with its colored gel lighting and teak paneling,its stripper stage and an old fashioned brass trimmed bar,it looked like a pub after its abduction and reinstallation by the horny adolescent aliens with the bad sense of hearing. 

That might explain the patrons too.Mostly men in shirtsleeves with skewed ties,as if they came here straight from work at the cubicle farms,they all seemed rapt by their watery drinks and the women wandering the club,dressed as bizarro headmasters with the wardrobe addition of stilettos and miniskirts,wielding large rulers that would have made the most militant nun green with envy. 

Oh man,he was going to need to take another shower.This was sleazy as well as sad. 

As if to prove that,the stripper gyrating on the small stage was dressed as a schoolgirl in pigtails,with an extremely short skirt and some major league breast implants peeking out of a lacey white bra,just visible under the shirt she was slowly peeling off.The lustful catcalls of the men grouped around the small stage like worshipers at a religious sacrifice were almost as loud as the speaker blowing techno music overhead.This was just pathetic.What did he think he was going to find here again?Reasons he shouldn't feel sorry for himself? 

The club was not familiar,just annoying,and just as he made up his mind to leave (what a mistake),he felt someone hit him in the ass really hard."You are blocking the aisle,boy,"a woman said,in a mock stentorian voice. 

He turned around,and found himself facing a stern faced woman wearing fake wire rim glasses (it had no lenses),her straw colored blonde hair done up in a severe librarian's top knot,smacking one of those long,reinforced rulers in a threatening  manner against her palm."I ain't one of your pathetic customers,doll,I wandered in here by mistake.I'm goin' now." 

"We do not tolerate back talk,"she said,still playing her role.She whipped that ruler again,like she intended to smack him with it again,but he caught it and broke it into several pieces with a single squeeze of his hand.She looked absolutely horrified,and finally broke character." 'ey,you bastard,if I go through more than five of these it comes out of my paycheck!" 

"Then don't hit me unless you mean it,"he snapped back,walking past her and shoving his way through the crowd to the door. 

The bouncer was still unconscious outside,but the crowd that continued to step over him didn't seem to be too concerned about it.Some of them must have recognized him as the guy who put the bouncer down,though,because this crowd seemed to part for him easily. 

He started wandering down the dark streets of London,wondering what he was going to do now.This was completely stupid;he didn't remember anything else,he had no game plan.He went in completely blind,just because he needed to get out of Xavier's before he killed someone. 

He thought he was moving towards the heart of the city,but he really didn't know.Shuttered,grimy shops gave way to blocks of row house,depressing enough alone in their uniformity,but all seemed to be dirt smeared and crumbling in the same way,like identical rotting teeth.And even though the pedestrian traffic had thinned to zero,he got a sense for a while that he was being watched and followed.He found himself hoping that some dumb ass would try and mug him-that would burn off some steam,and brighten the evening-but he must have chickened out,because soon he seemed to disappear. 

He almost went for his cell phone,but he couldn't admit to Bob this was a mistake,not yet.He had to give it a chance, see if anything came back along the way.He searched his pockets for a cigar,and felt the cold,tiny figure of the elephant in his front pocket.He belatedly wondered exactly what Bob meant by "limits the effect of entropy in a very small area".  
Entropy had never been a problem with him.But,if he thought about it,he supposed he could use all the luck he could get. 

** 

    The bartender,an elderly man with a pot belly and skin yellowed from years of cigarette smoking,peered carefully at the photograph before saying,"Yep,he was in here,coupla nights ago.Hard to forget that hair.Real grouchy guy.He glowered a lot,drank his beers,and left." 

Colonel Gene Harris nodded,taking the photo of Wolverine back from the bartender."Haven't seen him since?" 

The man shook his head,making his thinning,greasy strands of grey hair flop around his waxy scalp like soggy pasta."I don't think he's a real sociable type of guy." 

"That's an understatement,"Harris noted,tucking the photo back in his coat pocket. 

He was happy to leave the grim honky tonk bar,and had to admit the thought of a Wolverine hunt had brought to mind images of chasing that bastard to ground,not canvassing seedy bars for any sign of him. 

Once outside,he paused by his SUV to light up a cigarette.Okay,so,in four hours he had hit twenty bars,and twelve had been visited by Logan within the last two weeks or so-three bartenders weren't completely sure.So he was in the area, presumably,but none of the scout teams had reported positive on a visual.They were all dressed in civilian clothes too, in case Logan spotted them first,but so far he was either hiding,or he hadn't started his drinking binge for the night.But it was starting to get late;if he wanted to attempt to get sloshed,he was running behind. 

He was joined at the black truck by Major David Delaney,who had been checking out a bar on the next block over.He was a string bean of a man,tall and lanky,with quick growing thick black hair that never seemed to hold a haircut longer than two days,even though,conversely,he could not grow a beard on his baby face to save his life.Delaney looked uncomfortable in his civilian casual wardrobe of jeans,a button down tan shirt,and black canvas jacket,but Delaney was one of those men who always looked vaguely uncomfortable,no matter the place or what he was wearing,like his underwear was constantly riding up on him."Nothing?"Harris asked,exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke into the still, unseasonably warm night air. 

Delaney shook his head,leaning against the back of the truck."He hadn't even been there,according to the bartender. This sucks. Do you think Logan was tipped off?" 

"I don't see how."But he had thought that,hadn't he? 

He had the radio tuned to the police band frequency,listening for any mention of a bar fight,but so far nothing was happening beyond your average domestic disturbances and gunshots fired. 

Well,how many more bars did they have to hit in the area?Thirty?Who knew this part of Upstate New York had so many bars? 

"Are you the guys looking for Wolverine?"A female voice asked,from out of a darkened alley across from them. 

With astonishingly good reflexes,Delaney drew his sidearm and aimed it in the direction of the voice before she sauntered out of the mouth of the alley.It was a petite,good looking woman with shoulder length honey blonde hair, wearing a form fitting crimson dress and painfully high heeled shoes in a matching shade of blood red,and seeing the Walther PPK in Delaney's hand only made her laugh. 

"You can put that away,sugar,"she drawled casually."It won't do you any good anyways." 

Her make up was a little restrained for a hooker,but certainly she had the hip swinging walk down pat.Delaney didn't lower the gun,and Harris eyed her up and down-there was nowhere for her to hide a weapon with a dress that tight and tiny:she wasn't even carrying a purse."Who wants to know?" 

"Someone who wants that son of a bitch dead too." 

"What did he do to you,honey?" 

She scowled at the use of the word honey."He helped kill a bunch of my friends.Well,okay,not friends,but people who owe me money,and he trashed my favorite club.Either way,that's just unforgiveable." 

"And we're just supposed to believe this?"Delaney asked scornfully."You could be one of his mutant buddies for all we know." 

Harris didn't bother to add he wasn't sure Logan had any friends,as that would be counterproductive. 

The blonde woman glared at them both,and suddenly her face changed:her azure eyes became yellow,while her brow seemed to come forward,wrinkle and making her eyebrows disappear in the folds of flesh,while her perfect teeth became suddenly sharp and jagged,as if she had too many for so small a mouth."Do I look like a mutant to you?"She asked sarcastically. 

Delaney looked horrified,and seemed to be about to answer in the affirmative,when Harris reached across and lowered his weapon for him."Put that away,"he ordered."She's a vampire-it won't do anything but annoy her." 

"A vampire?"Delaney asked in shock,obviously hoping he was kidding. 

But he wasn't-far from it-and the woman smiled,her face reverting from vampire to normal cherubic human face."I'm glad you're not as dumb as you look." 

He gave her a hard smile,but he didn't mean it.If she was willing to help him find Wolverine,well,terrific. 

But even he wasn't stupid enough to completely trust a demon. 

** 

It was the third night in a row he could not sleep,and he knew if it kept up he'd have to talk to his doctor about it.But when your doctor was your fiancee,things got a little weird. 

Scott listened carefully at the door before stepping out into the darkened hallway,bare feet quiet on the wooden floor. Now he knew he had heard something,and he was sure it wasn't Logan,because he was (thankfully) gone.The bad news was Bob came to deliver that information,but even though Xavier invited him to stay for a bit,he said he had business in California,and Scott couldn't say he was unhappy to have Logan-and now bothersome Bob-gone. 

Of course,the fact that Logan had trusted Bob and not them with a memory of his past seemed to bother everyone,but not him.That was just typical of Logan,wasn't it?After all they had done for him,he remained distrustful.Ungrateful bastard. 

Scott was surprised at Bob's claim that Logan didn't kill all those people.Maybe Bob was protecting Logan,but why? Because Bob was a mysterious loon with his own agenda.And,sexually hyperactive girlfriend aside,he just bet Bob had some kind of crush on Logan,and wasn't that a hilarious thought?But that just begged the question why a guy as good looking as Bob didn't have better taste,or at least aim higher.The world was too strange by half. 

Padding down the hall,he thought he saw the door to one of the girl's rooms ajar,and he had a sinking feeling who had snuck out this time.Carefully,he peeked inside,and confirmed it:Rogue's room.And she was obviously gone. 

She'd just gotten past the 'parole' she'd been put on for the last time she had sneaked out in the middle of the night. That girl was trouble,and since she had absorbed Logan twice,he was fully prepared to blame him for it. 

But as he stood in the open door of the dark room,he pondered what he thought he had heard.It was a blunt noise like a door closing,but not in the mansion,not that close,and not wooden.It was like...a car door. 

Oh no,she didn't.She better not have. 

Scott rushed to the garage,which still had low level emergency lighting on even at this time of night,and his suspicions were confirmed:Rogue had taken a car.Her car thieving ways continued. 

All the way back to his room,he muttered to himself,"This is Logan's fault."It really didn't matter if it was or wasn't,it was just nice to blame Logan for something.But he was pretty sure Rogue had never stolen a car before Logan- coincidence?Of course,of things Logan was capable of doing,car theft was probably the best you could hope for. 

He dressed quickly and quietly,trying not to wake Jean,and he managed not to:at least she was a pretty heavy sleeper.  
It wasn't that he wasn't sympathetic to kids sneaking out,he understood (well,in theory-when he was their age,he was trying to figure out a way to open his eyes without blowing stuff up),but car theft was an obvious crossing of the line.It didn't matter that she was "just borrowing it"-they'd had this lecture before.She was in so much trouble this time even he couldn't quite believe it. 

When he got in his car and started the engine,he pulled something about the size and shape of a palm pilot out of the glove compartment,but it was not a PDA.It was a little sensor gadget,with GPS technology,that read the tracking devices in each of the vehicles here on the grounds.It was a safety measure,in case something happened to someone on the outside,but this also allowed them to find them if they ever got stolen (his bike-now Logan's bike-used to have one, but Logan had somehow found it and removed it).And now,according to it,the car Rogue had taken was about eleven miles away,in the nearest 'big' town,and for some reason he thought the street location sounded familiar.He sat there in his dark car,the interior only lit by the engine lights,and tried to recall where he'd heard the address before. 

He was pretty sure there was a clothing shop on Spalding Avenue that Storm liked to go to,but he knew it wouldn't be open this late.So what else- 

-oh shit,a bar.He had to be wrong,he had to be. 

If he wasn't..."Oh Logan,I'm gonna kill you for this,"he promised,throwing the scanner on the passenger seat and gunning the engine. 

** 

    Scott had recognized the car in the almost full lot of a bar with the really awful name (in more ways than one) of Club Exstacy (a deliberate spelling error with drug connotations-that was just despicable),and by the time he parked the car,he noticed some people coming out of the 'club'. 

This place obviously skewed young,as there didn't appear to be anyone over twenty five in the small crowd that dispersed like a cloud of dandelion fluff,drifting off to cars so nice they had to belong to their parents.He was half way across the dark lot,no one giving his 'weird glasses' a second glance (well,that confirmed they were in no shape to drive),when he saw a figure staggering out of the green neon limned doorway,almost collapsing under the weight of a second person partially draped over them.Then he could hear the voice of a woman with a very nasal Long Island accent,speaking in a loud and slurred manner as if extremely drunk:"-so then I said I said I don want no trouble, you know,but then that bitch,you know the one I'm talkin' about,with the bad perm and the big ass-" 

Scott had moved a foot closer when he realized it was Rogue rambling on in a drunken manner;it was Kitty struggling to hold her up. 

"What the hell,"he exclaimed,racing to her side to help her before they both collapsed in a heap in front of the club. "How did she get drunk so fast?"But as soon as he asked,he knew the answer. 

Kitty,a slight brunette with large brown eyes,gave him a very guilty look."It was an accident,Mr. Summers,but I'm glad you're here.I never realized she's so heavy-or I'm so weak." 

He took the burden of Rogue off of her,careful not to touch any of Rogue's skin,but there wasn't much of that exposed. At least she'd had the sense to sneak out with her gloves and a long sleeved duster on,in spite of the warmth of the night.Rogue didn't seem to notice he was holding her up instead of Kitty.Her monologue went on non-stop."-but since when was that my fuckin' fault?I didn't know he was her ex-husband,it wasn't like he had a tag stamped on his ass 'Kimber's Property-Keep your skanky hands off'-" 

"What is she talking about?"He asked. 

Kitty shrugged helplessly."We were in the bathroom,and this drunk woman just barreled in,and she collided with us.I phased out,so she went right through me,but I didn't grab Rogue in time,and they made contact.Not for long,but just long enough for Rogue to pick up her drunkenness and her monologue." 

"I was afraid of that.How's the woman?" 

"She seemed a little stunned,and forgot what she was saying,but wasn't sober enough to know what happened." 

"Well,thank goodness for small favors." 


	3. Part 3

Rogue continued on relentlessly."-so I says,I said,hey,this isn't what I paid for.Shit,think I'm an idiot or somethin'.Just because I had a horse in college they think they can pull that crap on me-" 

Scott was suddenly very glad he couldn't make heads or tails of what she was saying.He also hoped she was drunk enough not to remember herself."What were you two thinking?You're not even old enough to drink." 

"I know.We really weren't intending to drink,I swear!There was just a band playing here tonight that we wanted to see-" 

"Save it.Do you know what could have happened if someone saw you use your powers?Or if you did drink and forget about using them around other people?" 

Kitty looked so contrite he thought she might burst into tears."I know.Mr. Summers.I'm sorry,it won't happen again." 

"You're right,it won't,"he agreed,then paused.He suddenly had the oddest feeling,yet he couldn't say why. 

But hadn't the parking lot cleared out really fast? 

"Open the door,Kitty,"he told her,as they approached the car Rogue had 'borrowed' for the trip.The girl obeyed,and he maneuvered Rogue into the backseat,where she continued to talk senselessly the entire time."-I didn't take that last one anyways.Some fuckhead from shipping did-"He had probably been around Logan too long,because now he was starting to get paranoid.But hadn't he just seen movement on the roof of the building across the street? 

"Take the car,"he told Kitty,retrieving the keys he heard jangling in Rogue's coat pocket (at least she hadn't hotwired it this time). 

She looked stunned."What?" 

He gave her the keys before he closed the door on Rogue and her endless drunken rambling about someone else's life.  
"No speeding,but I expect you to get home before me,got it?"He was now sure something was happening,that it wasn't just paranoia,and he wanted to get the girls out of here now.If he was wrong,no harm done,but if he was right he wanted to stay behind and act as a distraction until they were clear.He could take care of himself. 

Kitty nodded,and since they appeared to be alone in the lot,she didn't open the driver's side door,simply phased right through it,keys and all.He had to admit that looked like it was kind of fun sometimes. 

He stood back and watched her pull out of the lot,and was secretly relieved when he saw the tail lights fade at the end of the street,turning the corner and disappearing. 

When he turned around to go back to his car,he saw for the first time he was indeed far from alone. 

** 

    All of the bars remaining on their lists were considered long shots at best.They were simply too trendy,too expensive, or too gay forWolverine's tastes,if you could actually call them tastes.He just liked the sleazier joints,probably because he not only blended in better,but he was almost guaranteed to get into a fight,and pointless destruction was Logan's middle name.Er,names. 

Still,as they were driving up to their next destination,the vampire in the back seat-her name was Moira,which struck him as odd-she said,"Well,look who's here." 

Delaney looked around frantically."You see Logan?" 

"No,one of his buddies from the Seventh Circle." 

Moira had told them a complicated story about Logan and some 'friends' destroying a demon club called the Seventh Circle,and then destroying a demon mob called the League,although she admitted Logan barely helped with the latter. She said the real destroyer of the League was something called a 'draysajhan' or something like.When he asked her what that was,she'd only say it was better he didn't know."Because if he shows up the game's over anyways." 

"Why?"Everything had a weakness,mutants and demon alike,if you knew where to look. 

"Just trust me,Human,it is.Fallen angels are more dangerous than you think;even the pretty cherubim have wings of flame." 

"Are you high?"Delaney asked.Harris thought that was a valid question. 

"You're not saying Dray whats his face is an angel,are you?"Harris asked,if only to keep Moira from biting Delaney. 

She scoffed."No-angels as you Humans think of them don't exist.No one is pure of heart;a heart is by nature a tainted thing."Oh great,a philosopher vampire."But there are worse things." 

Delaney had dared to ask "Like what,"but then Moira had said,"Well,look who's here." 

"Which one?"Harris asked.She had said there were a couple of people who destroyed the demon club. 

"The mutant who shoots death rays or something from his eyes.See?The one with the Kareem Abdul-Jabar glasses." 

Harris saw him then:a blandly handsome brown haired guy,wiry and lean,wearing what looked like thick red ski goggles.At night?How could he see? 

But he could,somehow.He was helping what looked like a very drunk woman across the parking lot of a nightclub called Club Exstacy,while talking with another girl who was walking with them.Two girls at once?Goggle boy must have thought he was a stud. 

"No sign of Logan,"Delaney noted,disappointed. 

"Who cares?There's your problem solved." 

"Huh?" 

But Harris got what she meant."A lure.We take Logan's friend,and make him come to us."He had to admit,though,the idea of a mutant who could shoot rays from his eyes,beams that knocked down at least one building that they knew of (well,if you could trust a vampire's word on it),was an intriguing weapon possibility.No good for covert operations,but if   
you needed someone for widespread destruction in a limited amount of time,he'd be the go to guy. 

Maybe they could get bait and a new toy at the same time. 

He parked the SUV up the street from the club,and pulled out his radio."Strike team,move into position at my coordinates.We have a secondary target acquired." 

He got an affirmative from the team leader,but he didn't bother to respond,just checked his own weapons. 

"I think I'm going to go re-introduce myself to him,keep him preoccupied while you move into position."Moira volunteered. 

"No biting,"Harris warned."I got a piece of wood with your name on it otherwise." 

"You're no fun,"she snarled,getting out and slamming the car door after her. 

But this was fun.It wasn't Wolverine,but hell,at least they were going to corral them a freak. 

    4 

    "Hello there,loverboy.Where's your hairy,bad tempered friend?" 

It took Scott a minute to figure out who she was referring to,and to place the face.She looked familiar,vaguely,but he didn't know a lot of blondes."He's not my friend,"he replied sourly.She was from that club,Seventh Circle;she was one of the ones Logan called a vampire."And why do you want to know?" 

The blonde woman in the little red dress shrugged,sauntering casually towards him across the parking lot.He still didn't know where everyone had gone,but the night had gone suddenly dead quiet."I thought you were a pair,that's all." 

He raised a hand to the side of his visor,ready to fire."Hold it right there.How many people are with you,and what is this about?" 

She attempted an innocent look as she paused,placing her hands on her hips,but somehow he couldn't believe she was ever innocent."Whatever do you mean?You wouldn't hurt a harmless woman,would you?" 

He scowled at her.He doubted very much she was harmless.He wasn't sure he was prepared to believe she was a vampire,but a demon-why not?"Cut the crap,okay?Is this some sort of revenge thing?If so,let's just get this over with, because I want to at least try and get some sleep." 

She grinned,but it was a hard,cold smile.She looked something like a wolf who had just cornered its helpless prey."You should be so lucky for it to be simply revenge,Ray-don." 

It was so quiet he could hear a click of a magazine in a rifle,far away but not nearly far enough.He had not been paranoid. 

He was surrounded. 

He tried to pretend he hadn't heard that,and the fact that his eyes couldn't be seen probably helped. 

"This is the last chance to cough up the location of the furball and save your bacon,"the woman advised in a seemingly friendly manner. 

He knew who 'furball' had to be-who else could it be besides Logan-and for a moment,he was tempted to tell her to go to London instead of to hell.Why did he care what happened to Logan?The guy was violent enough to handle something like her and her friends anyways. 

But there were several hard truths here:there could be more to it than that-people who came after Logan were generally prepared for him (look what happened with the League.Even if Logan hadn't let himself be taken,he probably would have been kidnapped anyways) and up to even worse than Logan was usually up to;he couldn't trust them to do a damn thing they promised to do (they were the bad guys,after all);and when you got down to it,there was a basic, unsurmountable problem."I don't sell people out,"he said,not adding that Logan barely qualified as a person in his estimation. 

There was a malevolent twinkle in her blue eyes as her ruby red lips curved into a wider,colder smile.He could hear the scuff of boots on blacktop and on the rooftops around him.He had no idea how many people were involved,he did not have Logan's hearing or his sense of smell (and he was rather glad about that last one),but he knew there were probably too many people scattered around too wide an area for him to take down before they could drop him with a bullet.Assuming all they had were bullets. 

He found himself in the peculiar position of wishing either Logan or Bob was here.Bob first,because he could take care of them with little violence;Logan second,because he could take care of them with lots of violence. 

"But you just said he wasn't your friend,"she said,sounding as slick and charming as a professional huckster in a circus midway (maybe she was a vampire..)."Come on,sweetheart,I can smell it from here.You hate him.You want to watch him burn." 

"Back up,or I take you down,"he said through gritted teeth,trying to will himself not to react to what she had said. 

She was blocking the way to his car,and it was his best shot.It was a long shot at best:if he could get to his car,maybe he could get out of here with most of the damage done to the auto instead of him.It was a bad plan,but it was all he had at the moment. 

She to take a moment to study him,as if trying to determine his veracity,but after a few seconds she stepped aside, sweeping an arm behind her like a game show hostess displaying fabulous prizes."Don't let me stop you,darling.But I hope you realize how much you've screwed the pooch here." 

He refrained from making a comment.That sounded like a Logan line if he had ever heard one. 

He started casually across the blacktop,and in the still air he could swear he heard a noise that sounded like safeties being released on multiple weapons,and he tried desperately to triangulate the noise by hearing alone.If he looked around,they'd know he was on to them,and most likely open fire.He felt his heart starting to race,and he suddenly wished he had a pair of secret eyes in the back of his head,or even (how desperate was he) Logan's dog like hearing. 

He was seven feet from his car when a crackle of radio static broke the dead calm of the night. 

Right behind him,and across the street. 

He pivoted quickly on his heels and fired a coherent beam of red light at the roof of the bank across the street,and he knew by the noises of impact and grunts of pain he had hit quite a few as he turned,raking the light towards the rooftops of the neighboring buildings. 

He took out two units of men,maybe three,before he felt a wasp like sting in the base of his spine and tasted a sharp tang of electricity in his mouth as he seemed to lose all feeling in his legs and the rest of his body.He collapsed helplessly to the pavement,not even able to move his arms up to shield his face.He thought he heard a bit of his visor crack on impact,but it must not have been in an important place,because the beams were not currently chewing up the parking lot and digging to China. 

He heard footsteps coming towards him rapidly,heard military like orders being shouted to men,but he was still unable to move.In fact,he started to feel like he was slipping away,down a slick wall where he could get no purchase,and try and fight it as he might,he was unable to do anything but keep sliding downward. 

Someone kicked him violently over onto his back,and he found the blonde woman leaning over him,giving him that predatory smile,a black box like object in her hand.He suddenly remembered Logan saying something about those government guys having weapons shaped like that:he called them paralyzers.That tracked. 

"Ah,sorry honey,"she said,leering triumphantly down into his face."But there was no way you could win.You were fucked from the get go." 

He wanted to say he had guessed that,but he couldn't speak. 

He was soon surrounded by the shadow of men uncountable,all with rifles aimed own at his face,and he was kicked roughly over onto his stomach once again.Someone grabbed his arms,he felt cold metal cuffs slapped on his wrists,and then someone grabbed him by the hair,lifting his head,and they slid something over his face-a bag?A mask?Either way, he could no longer see,for all the good it was doing him. 

Their voices fell away to a dull blur of noise,voices without meaning,and he felt himself lifted by strong hands and carried:if it wasn't for the fingers digging hard into his flesh,he might think he was floating. 

As he lost consciousness,he found himself hoping the people they were taking him to were complete morons who'd remove his visor.But he had a feeling that might be too much to ask for. 

** 

    Logan sat on a cold stone bench in Trafalgar Square as the sky lightened from slate grey to a sort of pumice grey,and he watched the pigeons crap on Admiral Nelson's head. 

Well,the head of his statue,which was the central part of the Square.He thought New York had lots of pigeons:there seemed to be an entire dark swarm of them here now,like a scene from "The Birds" left on the cutting room floor. Several had waddled over to him,obviously looking for food,and some had been forward enough to try and peck him when he did nothing but shoo them away.He was tempted to see how many he could carve into surplus squab,but it was hardly the stupid birds's fault:they had become condition to see two legged furless bipeds in the Square as purveyors of food.It was still too early for most of the tourists,though,so the bird horde was just going to have to practice patience. 

Logan waded through the ankle deep swarm of birds and continued walking the streets of London,which he had been doing all night.He supposed he should be tired,but so far he wasn't;maybe it was teleport/time zone lag,or just his own frustration feeding the fire.He had hoped he'd see something that might look familiar,maybe jog his memory,but so far that wasn't happening.So far the only familiar things he had seen were the 'Golden Arches' and Burger King,The Gap and Starbucks-artifacts of bland,homogeneous,commercially acceptable Americana. 

He wasn't sure if he was a militant non-conformist at heart,or just grouchy.Maybe a little of both.It was hard to be a conformist when you were a mutant.To borrow a Bob phrase,it "queered the pitch". 

He had completely forgotten his watch,so he had no idea what time it was exactly,but as he walked he was able to guess time by when the sidewalks started to get busy,when the streets started to all but gridlock with cars,when the sun broke out from behind a thick clump of clouds.He started to get a bit weary of walking if not exactly tired,and he wondered if he should call Bob and ask him to zap his bike over here.But then he took another look at the traffic,and figured he get places faster if he stuck to walking. 

He dug out the half smoked stub of one of those good Dis cigars,and was searching his pockets for his Zipppo when his fingers found the small,cold elephant carving in his front pocket again.He wondered idly if Ganesha was ever going to do anything for him."Come on,elephant man,"he muttered under his breath,the cigar clenched tightly between his teeth."Do your stuff.I thought you were a friend of Bob's."Of course,knowing Bob,it could have just been another one of his big white lies. 

He'd just found his lighter and rounded a corner when he almost ran smack dab into a sizeable crowd.Apparently he was close to Harrod's and several other big shops,very much open for business,indicating it was later than he thought.  
Logan immediately went to the nearest crosswalk,determined to avoid the needless aggravation of a crowd of shoppers,and attempted to light his cigar. 

And that's when the weirdness started. 

He could swear he heard someone walking towards him,but when he looked up to his left,he saw no one approaching him.But he could still hear footsteps coming towards him,soft but quite audible.And now he could smell someone, a woman by the scent of her perfume (Poison,in fact),but he could also hear the sounds of someone eating,and smell salmon.And cucumbers.All coming towards him.But he continued to see nothing.What the hell was going on? 

It was then a woman eating a sandwich suddenly materialized before him."Oh my god!Logan?"She asked,holding her sandwich aside for the moment. 

He just stared at her in general disbelief,not sure if he should adopt a battle stance or not.But since she was eating her breakfast,probably not."Ruby?"He guessed.Bob couldn't have normal friends. 

And the woman standing in front of him was far from normal.Tall and lanky,with bronze colored skin and almond shaped violet eyes,she had shoulder length hair that was a rather vivid,almost electric plum purple,closely matching her lipstick.Her face was lovely,delicately featured and exotic,her high cheekbones setting off her aquiline nose,and she kept staring at him like she was waiting for a punchline."Ruby?"She repeated with a humorous scoff,slapping him hard on the shoulder with her free hand."What,not Spud?" 

It was his turn to wait for the punchline."Huh?" 

She was dressed pretty funny too,come to think of it.Over conventional jeans,Doc Martens,and a purple t-shirt,she wore a olive green leather trenchcoat and a very fancy looking white gold necklace,dripping with alternating strands of diamonds and aquamarine in a sort of fan pattern.Even if it wasn't real,he imagined it was expensive.But why wear it with a t-shirt? 

"Man,you do have a bad memory,"she said,taking a bite of her salmon and cucumber sandwich.He grimaced,because frankly that sounded disgusting,and it didn't smell much better.She was barely done chewing when she said,"Come on, let's get out of here before the security people look outside." 

He was about to ask why that would be a problem,but he had no love of the security cameras he could feel like a phantom itch along his spine.She linked her free arm with one of his and gently steered him back in the direction he had just come from."Who are you?"He asked,more confused than anything else."And how come I could hear you and smell you before I saw you?" 

She shook her head in a sad way."Always thought you were shitting me about that memory of yours,but you're almost like that guy in "Memento",ain't ya?" 

"Huh?"Was she saying they had met before? 

"I'm Srina Adar,remember?They call me Nightshade,but because you had to take the piss you used to call me Spud." 

"Spud?"Okay,he was really lost now.And when he glanced at her,he saw her eyes had gone suddenly,completely black. 

"Because nightshade is a member of the potato family.You could be such a monumental arse."She pulled him off to the side as they walked,as a woman nearly walked straight into them.How could she not see them? 

"We know each other?" 

She sighed like she was the most put upon person in the world."You know your name is Logan,right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Well,that's a start.Do you know why you're here?" 

"Not really,"he admitted,wondering when any of this was going to start making sense. 

She shrugged."Well,that's not all that different,come to think of it."She patted his arm in a seemingly comforting manner."Don't worry-we'll find out why you're here." 

But he thought perhaps he already had. 

**                                                                                                   

    Jean found herself in a blindingly white room,featureless and seemingly stretching in all directions towards eternity, although she was aware of boundaries even if she couldn't see them.The floor beneath her bare feet was as smooth as formica and as cold as marble,and the entire room seemed to be reflecting light without a source. 

Once her eyes adjusted to the unrelenting brightness,she saw someone kneeling on the floor ahead of her,their back to her.It was a man,his head down,palms flat on the floor,and for a moment she thought perhaps he was meditating.But the way his knees were folded beneath him was not a traditional meditative pose,and the way his shoulders were rounded it was like he was attempting to bear a heavy,invisible weight that was slowly but surely crushing him. 

Then she realized that the man looked familiar,even from the back. 

"Scott?"She asked,coming around to face him. 

But her curiosity instantly turned to horror.His hands were flat on the floor and he was kneeling because his wrists were chained to the floor.He didn't have his visor on,so his eyes were tightly shut,but red light still seemed to be bleeding from beneath his lids,and veins were starting to spiderweb across his face,a bright orange red as if filled with energy instead of blood,and she understood that his powers were somehow increasing,growing,and he couldn't control it.Not only that,but his eyes weren't closed:looking closer,she saw there was something black holding them shut,a long horizontal line like an industrial staple near the edges of the lids. 

"Scott,"she gasped,crouching down in front of him and reaching towards him. 

But then he screamed,a horrible sound of pain and fear that turned her insides to ice- 

"Scott!"She shouted as she jolted awake,reaching over to touch him.But he wasn't there;in fact,his side of the bed was even cold.He hadn't been here for a while. 

They had a sort of tenuous telepathic connection,so she concentrated on it,reached out with her mind- 

-and found nothing.Scott wasn't here;he was nowhere on the grounds of the mansion. 

She got up and hastily threw on the nearest clothes she could reach. 

She didn't know where he was,but she knew,with a sick feeling in her stomach,that he was in a lot of trouble. 

    5 

    Srina,a/k/a Nightshade,took Logan to an apartment over a new and used bookstore near King's Road-they didn't encounter the store owner and her landlord,but she said was he was a sweet 'stereotypically British and slightly closeted' gay man who loved her hair color (which she claimed was natural-why not?Helga had green hair). 

She wasn't a demon-she was a mutant who claimed her ability was a 'limited psychic' one:she could make people not see her."I'm not Invisible Girl or something."she said,letting his arm go and opening her flat door.She had long ago finished her sandwich."I could give lessons on how not to be seen." 

Her eyes went from black to violet again,and he assumed that meant they were visible again."I'm always here.It's just I can pretty much stop the brain from registering me,at least on a visual level." 

"Or anything you touch?"He wondered,as he got a good look at her apartment interior.It was a modest little place, quaint but not quite cramped,although it was full of very expensive looking stuff.Oh,the furniture looked like it came from a reasonably good second hand shop,but the other things were top of the line:she had a stereo system he envied,a super expensive DVD player attached to a reasonably large television,knickknacks that looked like lead crystal figurines and Ming vase reproductions and...that couldn't be the real Monet 'Waterlilies' hanging over her slightly threadbare couch,could it? 

"Within reason,yeah,"she agreed,throwing several deadbolts on the door.It seemed a little paranoid,especially for England,but when you had as much expensive stuff as she did,you wanted to protect it. 

The revelation hit him like a lightning bolt as she hung up the new leather jacket on an antique coat stand beside the door,and started to undo the clasp on the necklace."You're a thief." 

She gave him a sly smile as she walked over to her entertainment center.There was a black lacquered box there,and she very carefully placed the necklace inside the velvet lined box and placed it behind her CD player."Well,you said it yourself-we all have to earn a living."She then turned her stereo on,relatively low,and The English Beat covered up the noise of the traffic below. 

"When did I say that?"He asked,growing slowly but surely annoyed with these constance references to things that meant nothing to him. 

She grimaced slightly,and headed over to her small kitchenette."Sorry,I keep forgetting.How ironic.Wanna beer?I've got Guinness." 

He followed her,and gently but forcefully turned her to face him."How do you know me?" 

She looked at him in consternation,a small line creasing her brow."We met fifteen years ago in a pub.You were a sourpuss quiet guy with weird hair and a bad attitude who was incredibly sexy in a 'dangerous drifter' kind of way.You wanna let me go now?" 

"Fifteen years ago?"1987-the year of the massacre.The year he woke up naked in the snow outside the remains of the Alkali Lake military compound.The two incidents were mere months apart.It was strange how such a little amount of time could separate two very different worlds."How old were you?"She looked,at the oldest,maybe thirty,but he knew it was often hard to tell a mutant's age by appearance. 

"Old enough.Like you,I'm an older than I look." 

He gripped her arms tighter."Do you know how old I am?" 

Now she was starting to look really annoyed.She tried to yank her arms out of his grip,but wasn't strong enough."No,I don't,I just know you must be a lot older than even I assumed 'cause you haven't aged a day in fifteen years,and will you fucking let go of me already?" 

He searched her face,looking for truth,lies,anything,but all he could see was bewilderment,starting to mutate into annoyance and fear.Either she was a very adept liar-always a possibility-or she was telling him the truth.He didn't know which one he dared to believe.He did let her go reluctantly;he still didn't trust her,but physically she was no match for him."How long were we together?" 

"It was a week and a half one night stand,until you were called back to Canada.It was a real trip.You're a weird guy.I see you still are."She said bitterly,openly glaring at him. 

"Why was I called back to Canada?" 

"How the hell should I know?I'm not your bloody mother.Besides,you weren't the most forthcoming guy I've ever met." She turned away from him,and if anyone could be said to open a refrigerator door angrily,it was her.He noticed there was a lot of take away boxes and beer in there,and a bottle of fruit juice that was probably her idea of making a meal healthy.Well,she certainly seemed like his kind of woman. 

She grabbed a diet Coke hidden behind the big green cans of Guinness,and slammed the fridge door hard enough to rattle the vegetable magnets clinging to the outside."You know,I always knew you had a psycho tendency,but I thought you channeled it through your work.Maybe I was wrong there too." 

"My work?Do you know what I did?" 

She seemed reluctant to turn her back on him now.She leaned against the tiny gas stove,which was dusty from lack of use (although the mircowave on the counter looked top of the line and perfectly gleaming),and said,"You were a government guy.Secret agent or spy or whatever the hell.You wouldn't tell me,but I figured it out for myself.Are you saying you're not in the game anymore?" 

It was something about the way she said it that made him look at her in a new and dangerous light."Are you?" 

She laughed,and outside the tiny kitchen window he could see the sky had finally cleared,even though the traffic hadn't.  
"Oh yeah,right,like I'm the type o' person the feds want to hire." 

"Do you think I was?" 

For a moment,she looked honestly thoughtful."No,but I figured they wanted you because you were the best at what you did." 

"And what was that?" 

"Kick serious,major ass.I'd be lyin' if I didn't admit that was always a major turn on.Although not at this particular moment in time." 

The music in the front room abruptly changed to U2,and he figured she had one of those fancy CD players that could randomly shuffle between fifty CD's at once.But since she probably hadn't paid for any of this,he wasn't surprised."What was I doing in London fifteen years ago?" 

She opened her Coke and took her time sipping it,measuring him with her eyes.She was either trying to figure out how much to tell him or how sane he was,or both.Bono singing about the end of the world in the living room almost made this entire thing blackly comic.Finally,she said,"You claimed to be 'on vacation',but that was bollocks.You were after at least one guy,maybe more." 

"What for?And who?" 

She shrugged."I got no fucking idea.You didn't actually share." 

"So how do you know this much?" 

"I'm sneaky.I followed you when I thought I might get away with it,and sometimes,if we went out,your problem would come to us." 

"You mean we were attacked?" 

"Well,they tried.Never lasted very long with you.I got the impression you were hoping that would happen." 

She still seemed wary and very frosty towards him.If it wasn't part of the act,he really had unnerved her.He felt bad about it,and pissed off that he felt bad about it."Look,I'm...sorry.These guys,they fucked with my head so bad I'm kind of surprised I can still walk and talk at the same time,you know?The guy you met back then...that wasn't me.I mean,it was, but their version of me."She was looking genuinely puzzled now,and he never realized he could be so inarticulate. 

"Are you saying you were brainwashed or under mind control or something?"She asked, just guessing what he was trying to say. 

All he could do was nod;it seemed safest. 

"Hmm.Well,that would actually explain a lot,"she admitted,her expression softening just a little.In the light from the kitchen window,her hair glowed a dark wine color,deep red with an undertone of bruise purple that made her violet eyes look pale,almost the color of foxgloves."So you're not on the payroll of these guys anymore?" 

"No.Although I don't think they're happy about that." 

She met his eyes fearlessly,and asked,"So you're not here to kill me?" 

** 

    Things went from bad to worse so quickly Jean hardly had time to sit down and panic. 

The GPS scanner put Scott's car in the parking lot of a place called Club Exstacy,and she and Storm went to retrieve it.The club was closed,of course,and there appeared to be no sign of a struggle...except wasn't that a scorch mark on the edge of the bank roof across the street? 

When they got back,Kitty gave a recap of the last time she had seen Scott (Rogue was too ill-hung over-and didn't remember anyways)."He seemed like he was anxious,"Kitty admitted,clearly anxious herself.She was ringing her hands together as she talked,sometimes accidentally phasing,so her hands sort of melted together."I thought he was just really mad,but after I got back here and he didn't show up right away,I wondered if he just wanted us out of there.I didn't see anything out of the ordinary,but I was more concerned with trying to get Rogue not to throw up in the back seat." 


	4. Part 4

Although Jean briefly felt a surge of irritation that she had left Scott by himself,she quickly dismissed it.What was Kitty supposed to do,especially with a drunk Rogue on her hands?Besides,Scott was trying to protect them,and he must have had good reason to do so.Scott was not the type to overreact. 

The Professor urged her not to panic,not yet,as he could locate Scott via Cerebro.But he seemed to be in there a long time,and her stomach knotted itself tighter and tighter the more minutes that went by,until she thought she might be as sick as Rogue.  
Finally,the silver doors slid open,and she could see the horrible news etched on the Professor's stark face."You couldn't find him,"she said,sparing him telling her.There were only three ways that was possible:if he were shielded in some way,or unconscious,or...dead.She decided she wasn't even going to consider that one.He was alive,she knew it.He was just out of reach. 

They had no idea where to start.Why would someone kidnap Scott,and how could anyone do so? 

She wanted to call Logan,bring him back (it was a long shot,but maybe he could track Scott by scent alone),but she had no idea where he was.It wasn't like she could just ring London and ask. 

But she could ring Bob,and it was then she realized that he might be able to help them more than Logan could. 

She sat alone in her office,searching her address book for Bob's phone number,and found it almost impossible not to burst into tears.'Scott is fine,'she told herself,but she didn't believe it.Scott wasn't fine,and she feared Logan wasn't either.She was afraid everyone she loved was in trouble,and she was helpless to do anything about it. 

The first time she punched in his number,she made a mistake and had to hang up and try again.She told herself it was sunlight reflecting off the white page that was making her eyes water,and she willed herself under control before trying again.She did it right this time.Or so she thought. 

"Ben's Mortuary-you stab 'em,we slab 'em,"the man who picked up the phone said. 

She was momentarily put off,but she caught the Australian accent."Bob?" 

"Jean!"He exclaimed happily."Sorry,I was expecting a call from my great grandson in Hong Kong."There was a pause,in which she could hear some particularly raucous music playing in the background,and Bob suddenly sounded grim."What's happened?Has Logan got his stupid ass in trouble already?" 

"No,not that I know of.It's Scott." 

"Scott?"He exclaimed incredulously."How does he get in trouble?"He almost sounded scornful. 

She scowled at the phone,and recapped what little they knew.Bob made a thoughtful noise,then said,"Scott wouldn't actually be hard to get,as long as you got him from behind." 

She remembered from the sim they ran with Logan."We're all vulnerable from behind." 

"Not necessarily.If you sensed someone sneaking up on you,you could still take them out.And I dare anyone to sneak up on Logan or me.Talk about a losing proposition." 

"You both have different gifts." 

"That's a very nice way to put it." 

She scowled at the phone again.She never was perfectly sure when he was joking and when he was serious,but that was doubly true over the phone."Look,I-" 

"Hold on a sec,"he interrupted,and put the phone down. 

She scoffed in frustration,and wondered if she could give him a telekinetic slap from over the phone. 

Suddenly she got a sense of Bob's terrific psychic 'pressure',as well as a whiff of coconut scented sunscreen,and swiveled in her chair to see Bob standing in the far corner,pulling on a yellow tank top."Xian will just have to talk to Helga," he said."He rather likes that,anyways." 

"Did I interrupt something?"Bob was dripping wet,his hair plastered down to his scalp,water trickling down his chest before he pulled his shirt over it,and he was only wearing black swim trunks:he didn't even have any shoes on.He teleported while getting dressed? 

"Nah,I was just kickin' it beside the pool."He combed his wet hair back with his fingers,and said,"So where's this place where Scott was last seen?Maybe I'd better go check it out." 

That was exactly what she had in mind.Maybe she wasn't sure what Bob was,or how far you could trust him,but there was one thing she knew:the power he had was frightening.If he couldn't find something,there was nothing to be found anywhere. 

** 

    The first thing he knew was it was dark.He didn't know if he was blind or if he simply had something covering his eyes.He knew he felt funny,drugged. 

He heard footsteps,murmured voices around him,and when he tried to move he felt something holding holding him down,cold metal around his wrists,ankles,chest.Scott vaguely remembered his capture,although things seemed so fuzzy he wasn't completely sure what had occurred."Who are you people?"He asked.His own voice seemed far away to him."What do you want with me?" 

No one answered.They went on talking amongst themselves like they hadn't heard him at all.They seemed to be talking about chemical levels and response times,things Jean would understand better than he would.Medical tests,they were conducting medical tests on him...medical experiments.Experiments like what they did to Logan? 

His heart began to pound so hard he thought he might be having a heart attack.Suddenly he wanted to tell them where Logan was-he would tell them anything if they would just let him go. 

But it wasn't going to be that easy.They weren't going to let him go until they were through with him.They never let Logan go, did they?"What are you doing to me?"He asked,tried to squelch he panic in his own voice as he felt a needle pierce the skin of his right arm. 

But there was no answer,and he could feel the new drug start to wash over him like a warm wave that left numbness in its wake.He tried to fight it,fight against the restraints,but it didn't do any good.He was trapped,and falling away inside himself, and all he could hope is that what they planned to do to him wasn't as bad as what they did to Logan. 

    6 

    "Kill you?"Logan repeated,wondering if this was a joke he didn't get."Why the hell would I do that?" 

"Well,I figured the next time I saw you,it'd be you tyin' up loose ends,"Srina said,as if it was the most patently obvious thing in the world."I mean I do know too much." 

"Like what?"He wondered,adding,"I know too little.Maybe we can meet in the middle." 

She shrugged."Well,before I launch into any long recitations,I'm gonna sit down.Grab a beer if you want."She said,sidling past him,going back to the living room and never quite turning her back on him. 

He thought he might need the fuel,so he did take a beer from the fridge,and followed her out.She was splayed casually on her worn blue sofa,in the far corner closest to the living room window so she could bask in the small square of available sunlight. There was a wicker chair that looked like a cast off from Ricardo Montalban's garage sale,but it was the only seat around,so he sat in it,and it crackled under his weight like a pile of leaves that had just caught fire.But it held his weight,for now-one sudden move and he was sure it would fall to pieces. 

"So why'd you invite me home if you thought I was gonna kill you?"He wondered,carefully opening his beer.He didn't want that simple act to collapse the chair. 

"You'd find me anyways,"she replied,seemingly untroubled by it."You knew where I lived-well,so I thought-and you're the only one I know who can see through my guise." 

"I couldn't see you." 

"But you knew I was there,didn't you?" 

He had to give her that."I could still hear you,and smell you.Avoid the salmon next time." 

"Will do.But you kinda catch me no matter what,unless I'm really careful and downwind.Those enhanced sense of yours.Real pissers.Besides,you're like a Mountie,aren't ya?" 

"Huh?" 

She gave him a smart ass grin."Always get your man.Or woman,in this case." 

He wanted to shift,the hard edge of the chair was really digging into his thighs,but he didn't dare.But then again,why would she buy reinforced furniture on the off chance a guy with a metal skeleton would drop by for a drink."If I didn't kill you back then,I don't see why I would now,"he admitted,as the CD player switched over to Alice In Chains. 

A strange look came over her face,softening it,making her look even younger."I think you were supposed to,but you didn't.I didn't really understand why:I mean,I figured you were an assassin,a hard nosed-well,bodied-killer,once it was too late to back out of our little fling,but then you started acting funny from time to time.If you were brainwashed or something and it wasn't sticking,if you were starting to come out of it,that explains a lot." 

"Come out of it?What do you mean?"He then made himself stop,and shook his head."No,wait,first things first.Who was I after,did I get them,and was the club Hell involved?" 

She sat up a bit."Hell?Wow,that name brings back memories.You remember that?" 

"Not really." 

"Huh.You told me you got there too late,and the next thing I heard was there was a big fire and the place was shut for structural damage." 

"Too late?Too late for what?" 

She shrugged a single shoulder,settling back down on the couch."To save the 'so called normals'.As I told you, you weren't the open and sharing type.You wouldn't even tell me what your nightmares were about." 

He could now,but he decided he wasn't going to talk about that,not at the moment at any rate.What he couldn't help wonder is if there was a grain of truth to his seemingly sarcastic 'so called normals' answer. 

After Bob,he was willing to believe anything. 

** 

    Control was in the observation room when Burton came in to give his report. 

With facts and figures in his hands,Burton was a much more composed and articulate fellow;it seemed he always needed a firm crutch on which to lean his conversations on. 

Control sat down,figuring he was in for something long winded,but that was okay since he wasn't missing much.In the room below,Summers was out cold on a restraining table,the drugs from the last experiment having hit him really hard.He could have been just any guy on a table in a blindingly white room if it wasn't for the shackles,or the lead covered ruby quartz goggles covering his eyes."So,how good of an experiment will he be?"He asked Burton,figuring anyone had to be an improvement over the frustratingly recalcitrant and mutable Wolverine. 

"Overall,a suitable one.He is within normal Human parameters for strength,immune response,reflexes,resiliency,and pain tolerance,"Burton replied crisply,almost sounding like a different person."He is pretty much a healthy Human being." 

"Except he shoots death rays out his eyeballs." 

"Yes,except for that." 

"What is that about?" 

"Well,as far as we can tell,he's sort of like a walking solar battery.His body automatically converts visible spectrum radiation into a more tangible,concentrated form,just like our bodies convert sunlight into vitamin D." 

"But,like us,he has no control of it." 

"Right,and there's no upper limit-well,that we can tell so far-of how much energy he can store.He can also pull it from seemingly dim sources,such as moonlight." 

"What about infrared?" 

"Tests are inconclusive at this point.But he is,for all intents and purposes,a walking laser cannon." 

Control sat forward,resting his forearms on the control panel (there was a joke in there somewhere),and tapped his fingers against a cool glass monitor as he looked down at the white room,which was so full of visual spectrum radiation you could probably get yourself a nice instant tan,or at least brown some potatoes.But according to the monitors,over a dozen of which were spread out along the half moon shaped control station,Summers-Cyclops,apparently-was 'charging',his body instantly converting and accumulating this energy for later usage.Maybe,if you kept him in a dark underground pit for eighteen months or so,he'd have no energy to shoot.He'd probably also be blind and completely insane.But if exposed to light again,there would probably be nothing keeping him from charging up again.Control looked between the monitors,showing graphs that meant nothing to him,fluctuating numbers that could have belonged to the Japanese stock market index,and asked what he knew might well be a rhetorical question:"What's the logic in this mutation?" 

"Mutations aren't always logical,"Burton replied easily."Remember that mutant who could do nothing but control the swimming patterns of fish?I'm still trying to work out the point of that one." 

"True."That was a weird one.Back at base,they liked to refer to him as 'Mermaid Boy'.He didn't live very long,as he had no use for them. 

"I mean,Logan's mutation was logical up to a point:he was the epitome of the selfish gene,the body keeping itself alive at all costs.But what was the purpose of the claws?"He paused for a moment,then said a quiet,"Oh." 

"What?" 

"Why does a cat have claws?Self defense."As they both mulled that over,Burton added quietly,"But I still don't get that whole fish thing." 

"Having an ability like Summers down there would make more sense than claws self defense wise,don't you think?" 

Burton considered that,his pale lips twisting in a grimace."Maybe,but it would be overkill.Logan has more keeping him alive than the claws.But if you're going to have just the one thing,it may as well be big,right?" 

Control nodded.That made sense,from an evolutionary standpoint.Maybe."How easy will he be to control?" 

"Very.Our telepath reports almost no resistance.He's used to having a telepath in his mind." 

He gave Burton a curious glance."Oh?" 

"His girlfriend,from what they've been able to determine." 

So,even though he was a walking death ray,he still managed to swing a girlfriend?That was something.More than Logan could do.Well,no,Logan apparently had at least one wife,but she kicked the old bucket right quick.That sort of thing happened when you married dangerous freaks. 

"Get to work reconditioning him,"he said,glancing down at the monitors like he understood a damn thing they were saying."I want to have a little surprise ready for Logan when he comes for his friend." 

"Absolutely,sir,"Burton agreed,almost eagerly-well,at least for him. 

Control sat back in the chair,feeling rather pleased with himself.He'd never been in control of a cannon before,nonetheless a laser cannon.This was going to be interesting. 

** 

    "The guy?" 

Srina took a swig of her soda before she even decided to answer,and even then he had a feeling she was hedging somewhat."I wish I could tell you.You indicated he was rogue,and referred to him only as 'the target'.All nice and ominous like." 

"A rogue?"Logan repeated,feeling a cold chill inside.A 'rogue' agent-a fellow mutant who had escaped the Organization?And he hunted him down like a dog.Jesus,things just kept getting worse and worse.What if he was one of the good guys,and he had slaughtered him like cattle? 

But if that were true,what of the Hell massacre?Where did that fit into any of this? 

"Did I get him?"He asked,afraid he knew the answer already. 

"They called you back,or so you said.I assumed you did."She sat forward,placing her can of Coke on the floor,and said,"It's funny-that was the freakiest week and a half of my life,and I barely remember any of it." 

He looked at her wearily,feeling the exhaustion he had fended off earlier,and realized with no surprise at all that she was lying to him.She was holding something back.He wasn't completely sure yet if she was friend,foe,or someone who could go either way,depending on the circumstances and/or what was in it for her.But then again,wasn't that true of most people? 

There were no saints,only varying degrees of sinners. 

"You look exhausted,"she said,with some sympathy."Where are you staying?" 

'Why-so you can send in the troops',he thought,but he kept it to himself."Around,"he offered,adding nothing further. 

There was a moment of awkwardness as she realized he was stonewalling (did she know why?),then she said,"You could stay here.Mi casa is your place,or however that goes:my Spanish sucks." 

"Are you still afraid of me?" 

She gave him a rather sharp look."What makes you think I was ever afraid of you?" 

Over compensation-she didn't want to admit it.And had there been a touch of anger there?Why couldn't he ever have a normal relationship with a woman-why?Why did they always have to be these angsty life and death things?It was him,wasn't it?It had to be;he just didn't know why. 

But then again,when he met he,he was a mindfucked cold blooded killer-and how could she have not known?It pretty much begged the question what the hell was she."You don't really know me,"he pointed out."Any more than I know you." 

"Maybe that's for the best-fresh start and all that." 

He suddenly remembered a slightly tasteless joke about the 'great thing' about having Alzheimer's disease-you meet new people every day.He smirked at the joke,thinking it could also apply to amnesiacs like him."What's so funny?"She wondered, not quite annoyed with him but on the verge. 

Her 'running into' him like that was not a coincidence;of that he was sure.But he didn't know what she was playing at,or who for.He did know he was very tired,and threatening her seemed pointless."Me,"he told her,carefully getting up from the chair. "You,us.I know you're holding out on me,Srina.What-" 

It was then his back pocket started to ring. 

It startled him slightly,because he had completely forgotten about the cell.Well,he didn't want one-why would he remember having one? 

Srina was giving him an odd,measuring look,as if wondering if he was still on the payroll after all.This was a Mexican standoff of trust issues-neither one of them was willing to do it,and he supposed they both had good reasons. 

As he pulled the cell out,it suddenly occurred to him no one had the number,except Bob of course.While the idea was irritating, it also occurred to him Bob could actually help him out here:he could make Srina talk. 

He pulled it out and after figuring out how to answer the damn thing,snapped into the phone,"Yeah,what is it?" 

It was amazing how quickly things could go from bad to worse. 

** 

New York 

    Moira was loitering at the back of the bar,trying to pick out someone semi-decent to eat,when Logan came in. 

It was still day,but overcast,giving you the false impression the sun wasn't as dangerous as it was.She was careful to stay far from the door,and now out of Logan's view,at least for now.This was no place to spring the final trap-not in public,at any rate. 

She watched him carefully as he sidled up to the bar,but rather than order his ubiquitous beer,he asked the grizzled bartender about maybe seeing a guy with weird red sunglasses lately.He was hunting for 'Cyclops'. 

Perfect. 

The bartender couldn't help him,of course,and Logan seemed to hunch inside his leather jacket,as if he was trying to physically bottle up the frustration of searching for his so called 'friend',who seemed to have fallen off the edge of the Earth.  
As soon as it looked like he was heading out the door,she quickly went out the back,where the broken fire exit door led into a trash littered alley that reeked of piss from the drunks who decided this was as good a toilet as any.Humans were such pigs. 

She followed the dark,semi-sheltered alley to the darkened mouth,and waited until she saw his familiar shadow falling her way (who else had pointy hair?),and heard the familiar cadence of his footsteps.She might have only encountered him once,but it was enough for her to glean the little oddities as well as the more obvious ones.He walked like a panther,with rolling shoulders and heavy yet somehow graceful steps,like he weighed about two hundred pounds more than he looked,yet still could,if need be,defy gravity at a moment's notice.He seemed to be stuck in a terminal ready to fight posture that she recognized from some of the more paranoid vampires she had encountered.Logan's regenerative abilities must have kept him from burning out. 

Someone was singing under their breath:"Someone was round here askin' questions about someone who looks like you;I told them I don't know where you are-" 

That couldn't be Logan,could it?No-he didn't even look like the humming type.But then again,maybe he was pleased the freak was out of the way. 

"Looking for someone?"She asked,not quite peeking around the corner. 

The singing stopped,and so did Logan.As he neared,she backed up farther down the alley,deeper into darkness. 

She saw his silhouette at the mouth of the alley,head cocked to the side as if studying her for weapons.She got that a lot."Do you know somethin' about this,vamp?"He growled,stepping carefully into the alley.He seemed to keep glancing around,as if expecting a trap.But it wasn't that kind of trap,the fucking moron. 

"Maybe,but you don't expect me to give you the info for free,do you?"She made sure to keep out of arm's reach of him.She knew about those claws. 

He snorted derisively,and managed to sound like an angry bull."What do ya want?" 

"A trip to Disneyland,"she snapped."Money,honey-what do you think?" 

He stopped moving towards her,although he continued to study her like she was a particularly fascinating paramecium."That's a very plausible lie,Moira,but I think we both know this is a set up." 

It was her turn to pause."How do you know my name?"She asked,as a very bad feeling overcame her.He shouldn't know her name-how could he know her name?Unless... 

"See me as I really am,"Logan said,and suddenly he wasn't Logan anymore.He was- 

-holy shit. 

It was the goddamn fucking Drai'shajan,standing there with his hands in the pocket of his jeans,his electric blue eyes almost lambent in the growing dimness.She meant to run,but of course it was too late for that:she couldn't move."You were playing a dangerous game,Moira,"he warned,his voice no longer Logan's flat monotone but his own slightly lilting Australian accented voice."You knew I could get involved,yet you risked it anyways.You have no one but yourself to blame." 

Although she couldn't move,he hadn't grasped her mind completely yet."Bite me,fuckwad." 

He shook his head and sighed."You know you're the only one who bites around here."She then felt something akin to a mental vice squeeze her mind,and he said,"Now tell me what's going on-who has Summers and why." 

She wanted to tell him to get bent,but of course she couldn't.She found herself spilling her guts in spite of herself,and couldn't help but wonder what he was going to do with her after he got what he wanted. 

** 

    It was only on a hunch that he decided to go around looking like Logan-well,to those who knew what Logan looked liked-  
figuring that wherever Logan was,trouble followed.Not that that was necessarily his fault;people were just at the mercy of entropy at times,some more than others. 

What he did not consider was that Logan's own personal entropy field had inadvertently caught Scott up in it.And all because of a bitter vampire who just wanted to see someone hurt. 

It would have been easier if the government had grabbed Scott in lieu of Logan,because he knew exactly where the government office was.But it sounded like the real deal covert super secret (super evil) assholes had grabbed him,which complicated things."Where are they?"He asked her. 

"I don't know,"she admitted."It was a need to know basis,and they didn't think I needed to know.Bastards." 

"So how is Logan supposed to go to them?" 

"They said they'd leave clues that he would recognize." 

"Like what?" 

She shrugged."Need to know." 

Well,they were smart enough not to trust a vampire-that wasn't good.But clues Logan would recognize?What could those be?  
"Do you know what they're doing to Scott?" 

"No." 

"Do you know what they plan to do to Logan once they spring the trap?" 

"No." 

She had pretty much given him all the information she could;these Org guys (Ogres,he couldn't help but think) had enough demon experience (seemingly) to know not to give her vital information.At least they were aware of demons now.Bully for them. 

He knew he should call Logan back now,but the Ogres had a trap specifically in mind for him (and if Scott had been scanned by telepaths-an obvious assumption-they were probably preparing for the rest of his 'friends'),and he didn't want him getting caught.Handing himself over to the bad guys worked once,but they couldn't count on it working again. 

Besides,Bob had a sinking feeling Scott might be more than just bait,but he wasn't going to mention that to the others,not yet. Jean would probably freak out,thinking they were doing to Scott what they did to Logan,but he knew they wouldn't.Logan was a special case,probably an operative that they felt 'betrayed' them in some way (probably by leaving),so his transformation into a walking switchblade was as much punishment as experimentation:Logan had to be put in his place,reminded who was boss (which would also explain Logan's almost knee jerk rejection of all authority figures-it was a learned behavior after the abuse he suffered at their hands),a tool for them to use at their discretion and absolutely nothing more.Of course,that didn't work for long-your two basic reactions to torture were rebellion or acquiescence,and they should have known from his personality profile that they could torture him all they wanted-which they obviously did-but he wasn't going to remain broken forever;he would rebel,because he always did.He was just that kind of stubborn,pigheaded bastard.And more power to him for it. 

They had no grudge against Scott.He was just another mutant to them,a potential weapon to exploit.Since he had a pretty significantly destructive mutant power already,there was probably nothing they could do to augment it.All they could do was telepathically brainwash him into thinking he was whatever they wanted him to be.And since he had no regenerative powers to speak of,nor was his mind a battle scarred,fucked over wasteland like Logan's,there'd be no problem with the transition either. 

Not that it mattered in the long run.As soon as he found Scott,all bets were off:their precious brainwashing would be gone,and they'd be back to square one. 

But finding Scott-now that was the problem. 

"I'd love to love you,but I'm doomed and you're an angel,"he started singing under his breath,forgetting what he had been singing before. 

He started to walk away when he remembered he was leaving Moira just standing there in a daze.He glanced over his shoulder at her,and wondered if there was any hope for her.No,probably not."Stake through the heart,"he said dismissively,turning away before he heard her shriek,barely aware of the ashes of her being blown around his feet by the rising wind. 

He had been in Logan's mind.Somehow,he was going to have to think like Logan,and try to be open to those cryptic clues that should be coming his way.Perhaps he already had his first clue and he didn't even know it yet. 

Man,what a pisser. 

    7 

    "Yeah,what is it?" 

"Well,fuck you too asshole,"a woman's voice snapped back at him from the phone,her clipped British accent making the cursing almost comical."Fucking wanker." 

Logan was momentarily bewildered,then he guessed,"Ruby?" 

There was a long and seemingly irate pause."No,it's the bloody Queen.Exactly who are you expecting to call,genius?" 

He now knew why Bob hesitated to call her a friend. "Are you calling for a reason,or just to abuse me?" 

"Isn't that a reason?"She shot back. 

He sighed and rubbed his eyes."Maybe you should call back after your Prozac." 

"Just shut the fuck up and listen,"she carped."I was able to dig up some information for you,but you'll have to come and get it, and be quick about it." 

"Why don't you just tell me?" 

She scoffed."Oh yes,I have absolutely nothing better to do.Get down to Tussaud's,and I mean now.Go around to the back, someone will let you in." 

"Where the hell is-"he began,but she had already hung up. 

With a sigh,he shut the phone and shoved it in his back pocket.Srina was still giving him that curious "now what" sort of look, and although he did not want to bring a potential foe into this,there was no way in hell he was calling Ruby back."Do you know where Tussaud's is?" 

She blinked rapidly,almost doing a double take."The wax museum?A ways from here.Why?Do you have a burning desire to see the royal family in wax?" 

He scowled at her,brows sinking low over her eyes."I'm supposed to meet someone there." 

"Why?" 

He shrugged and shook his head."Bob knows." 

She cocked her head to the side,curious."Don't you mean 'god knows'?" 

"Same difference." 

Her curious look didn't abate;it just got worse."Huh?" 

He didn't have time for this."Can you take me there?" 

She frowned at him,but decided to quit while she was ahead."Yeah,sure,let's go."She got up and retrieved her new leather coat from the stand.As she shrugged it on,she asked,"A spy friend?" 

"No.A friend of a friend,who is not only not a spy,but she sounds like a royal bitch." 

"A relative then?"She suggested,with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. 

He frowned at her,but he had to admit-mentally if not aloud-that that was a good one."Very funny.Can we just go?" 

She pulled out a tiny remote control that she used to turn off the CD player,then tossed it on a small side table bearing a transparent telephone (well,you could still see the neon colored guts),and a small silver framed photo of Srina with an older East Indian woman, probably her mother.They had the same nose,and looked the same around the eyes (although hers were brown,not violet). 

Srina held the door open,and gestured towards the hall."Age before beauty,"she teased. 

He gave her a teeth baring sarcastic grin,and headed out,wondering what he was walking into. 

** 

    Srina immediately commented it was weird that the place was closed at this time of day;a sign on the front of the building said it was 'closed for installation' and would be open later in the evening;Logan wondered who would care. 

There was an 'employee's entrance ' around the back,and when they tried the door,it was open.Logan was instantly suspicious and took a deep breath,but the smells of paraffin,paint,and dust almost made him dizzy.There were people here,but not many.  
People,and...what was that smell?It smelled familiar somehow. 

He led the way into a darkened back room,where various wax body parts were strewn about like a tour group had had a horrible accident with an airplane propellor,and wax statues were covered with heavy shrouds along the right side walls,lurking like forgotten,apathetic ghosts. 

There was no waiting for them here,so they walked out into the heart of the building. 

He could hear noises of tools in use-the banging of hammers,the sounds of wood being cut with saws-and the combination of sawdust and regular dust almost made him sneeze. 

He moved through the dimly lit,labyrinthine halls,away from the Cockney workmen and towards the almost familiar scent, which was starting to bug him because it was the equivalent of a word on the tip of your tongue that you could never quite get out. 

"Do you know where we're supposed to go?"Srina whispered,as if they were breaking and entering.Well,okay,in a way they had...but the door was open.No breaking had been involved. 

"Not really,"he admitted."I just think I smell something...familiar." 

"Familiar?Were you raised in a candle shop?" 

He ignored that."No,it's a human smell...but not." 

"What,you mean mutant?" 

"No.Demon maybe." 

"Demon?"She scoffed."That a slang term for a smelly bastard?" 


	5. Part 5

So she didn't know about them.Well,maybe that was for the best.The world was weird enough as it was without adding different species and parallel dimensions to the mix.Besides,he didn't feel like trying to explain it-it all sounded crazy anyway."Somethin' like that." 

But most demons didn't smell 'kind of' Human-it was usually an all or nothing kind of thing.Some kind of hybrid?A half breed?And where had he smelled it before? 

They passed heavy red velvet curtains that wouldn't have been out of place at a burlesque house,and the lighting was especially dim in this section of the wax museum,but that was obviously for atmosphere in what must have been the 'haunted house' section of the building.And it was here he knew-ironically-that they were not alone. 

"I know you're here,"he said,as they walked past what looked to be some tribute to Boris Karloff. 

"And I know you're here,"a now familiar woman's voice snapped back."What do you want,a bloody medal?And who's the friend?I thought you were solo."The woman stepped out from the shadows of an exhibit that was a Frankenstein movie tableau,with the big green monster on the silver lab table,and Doctor Frankenstein in the background,throwing switches,while the deformed Igor looked on.On the one hand,Logan was sorry it wasn't a "Young Frankenstein" re-creation,and on the other hand,he thought it was a deliberate slap in the face:was he supposed to be Frankenstein's monster there,chained down to the table in the mad scientist's lab?Of course,he wasn't cobbled together from dead body parts,but since he didn't seem to die,that would be difficult. 

The woman could have been a cop from any of those PBS "Mystery" series:she was average height and weight,late thirties to early forties,with sharp blue eyes and narrow hawk's beak of a nose in a slender face,her coffee brown hair piled up on top of her head in a sensible knot.She wore a navy blue jacket that matched her demure knee length skirt, and a black blouse that looked like silk,even in the dull penumbra of yellow light ringing the diorama. 

She looked Human.But she didn't smell it...not quite. 

He eyed her suspiciously as he said,"I am solo;this is just Srina." 

"Just?"Srina snapped,offended. 

"What are you?"Logan asked."You smell familiar somehow." 

"I doubt it,as I've never met you,but I am a lycanthrope.If that is any of your business."Ruby replied haughtily. 

"Lycanthrope?"Srina repeated in disbelief."You're saying you're a werewolf?" 

Ruby gave Srina a look that could have withered a cactus,while Logan simply nodded.Yes,that was it:werewolf was an odd combination of lupine and Human,which is why it threw him,and why it smelled familiar."That was it.I wondered where I'd smelled that before.One almost attacked me once." 

"One did attack me,"Ruby replied crisply."Hazard of the job." 

Well,maybe that explained why she was a werewolf.Was it contagious?It was in movies."MI5 or being a Watcher?" 

"Yes,"she replied,being deliberately obtuse.She pulled a slender manilla folder out from beneath her arm,and held it out for him."I have friends in the C.I.D. and in an agency you've never heard of that doesn't officially exist,that attempts to track mutant activity in Great Britain.Don't read it here." 

"You're saying you were attacked by a werewolf?"Srina repeated,scoffing,but they both ignored her.This wasn't the place to discuss it,nor the time.Maybe he should have filled her in on the whole demon thing,or at least attempted to do so. 

He took the folder from her,and she instantly stepped back,as if trying to avoid all contact with him.Did she have a thing against mutants,or just so called friends of Bob?"This never happened,"she said,then pivoted instantly on her sensibly heeled leather pumps and walked out of the horror show exhibit.In spite of the construction noises,he could hear the receding click of her heels on the floor as she disappeared into the winding maze of the museum. 

"Okay,"Srina commented."That was weird." 

He shrugged,ignoring the temptation of opening the folder now.He stuck it under his own arm instead,inside his jacket, so he pretty much hid it."Story of my life." 

"Now tell me what's this shit about werewolves,"she asked,as he turned to leave. 

He looked her straight in the eye,and said,"Werewolves exist.Demons exist too,although they're more like creatures from other places than some Biblical version of hell.I didn't believe it either,but I think I know a guy who's a demigod or something,and I've just seem too much strange shit not to believe it.Look,is there a decent place to eat around here? I'm starving." 

For a moment,she just stared at him,violet eyes wide in her dark face,and he just knew she thought he was either bullshitting her or had completely flipped his lid.She seemed unsure which was actually worse.But,finally,she looked away,shaking her head."Either you're all nuts,or I am." 

"Why not both?"He wondered. 

That earned him an acrid look,but she seemed willing to let it all go for now.With a shake of her head,she ran a hand through her purple hair,and said,"There's a Chinese take away a few blocks from me-we can hit it on the way back to my place." 

He nodded."Fine by me."But why was he going back to her place?Then again,where else did he have to go? 

"You're serious about all this?"She asked,referring to the demon thing. 

"I know-I can't believe it either." 

They started walking out,and after a moment's pause,she asked,"Demigod?What do they look like?" 

"An Australian surfer boy turned male model." 

"Really?"After a moment of mulling that over,she added,"You really have to introduce me to this guy." 

"Oh,I intend to,"he promised,although probably not for the reasons she was thinking about. 

** 

    The general consensus was they'd have been better off grabbing a complete stranger off the street then kidnapping Scott as 'bait' for Logan.Even Jean had to grudgingly admit that was so. 

But she wasn't convinced by his story that they most likely wouldn't hurt Scott."Why wouldn't they?"Jean said,her face drawn and haunted with fear."I mean,they clearly don't think mutants are Human." 

"No,but they want Logan,not Scott,"Bob pointed out calmly,aware he was fudging the truth ever so slightly."They won't hurt him,not really." 

Jean gave him a glare that could have peeled wallpaper."Not really?" 

They were seated in Xavier's cozy study,Storm,Jean,and a better Rogue on the couch (although the heavily covered Rogue continued to try shrinking into the fabric),while Xavier had parked his wheelchair in one of the far corners of the room,putting as much distance between them as possible.Bob was seated in an armchair he had moved back to the wall,trying to help out as much as he could.He knew Jean wasn't going to take this well,no matter how gently he put it. "I expect them to do a little telepathic futzing,make him more compliant,but there won't be any physical torture."He didn't add "I hope" or "Not much",but he thought it. 

Jean's jaw dropped,and her hazel eyes became hard with sudden anger."And that's not bad enough?!" 

"Other mutants work for them?"Xavier said,latching on to a subtle point. 

Bob nodded,grateful for it."When I first met Logan,he was being manipulated by mutants who had worked within the Org's system.But the thing you have to understand is there's an insidious double cross going on:the mutants who work -voluntarily-for the Org mostly have their own agenda.They let the Humans think they're taking out their kind and otherwise aiding the Human race,but in truth they have this idea of creating a mutant master race that will obliterate normal Human kind completely.Of course,the Org has no idea of this." 

"Why not tell them?"Storm wondered. 

"Because then the killing would really begin.You think it's bad now?Wait." 

"What if they rob Scott of his memories like they robbed Logan?"Jean exclaimed,her voice tight with rage. 

Bob shook his head,glad he had a pat and happy answer for this."They can't.I believe a mutant named Lethe burned out Logan's memories forever and ever amen.But she died in the explosion at Grand Cache,and I doubt there's another mutant with that obscure ability in their ranks."There was no point in mentioning that Electra had killed her,trying to protect Logan,nor that she was Electra's sister;that was unnecessary pain and complication."Also,I have a theory Logan's own mind has 'healed over' some of the truly ugly bits of his past,but I can't prove that yet." 

"Then why didn't it heal over the whole surgery thing?"Rogue asked curiously.She was feeling like her old self since Bob told her she was fine. 

"He had to remember that.He had to remember what they did to him." 

"Why?So he could never sleep again?"Jean shot back bitterly.She was torn between protecting Scott and protecting Logan equally.Scott was the man she knew she should want;Logan was the man she did want in spite of herself. 

"So he could get revenge,"Xavier noted quietly. 

Bob nodded."Got it in one." 

Jean hung her head in her hands,and Storm,arms crossed firmly over her chest,asked,"But what do we do if they've brainwashed Scott?" 

"Doesn't matter.The minute I see him,I can reverse it." 

"If he doesn't kill you first,"Jean groaned,sounding defeated. 

"He can't kill me.I can take away his power,if it comes to that." 

Jean looked up to stare at him,and Storm and Rogue joined her.It was no surprise that he could do that,but there was genuine curiosity about the 'how ' of it. 

Although Xavier was extremely curious about that himself,it wasn't actually on topic,and he knew that he would be less than forthcoming if questioned about it."But we have to find Scott first,"the Professor said. 

"Still nothing on Cerebro?"Storm asked. 

"No.They must be able to protect themselves from telepathy." 

"Yes,they do,"Bob agreed,even though it was just logical speculation."The only telepaths they want to know they're there are telepaths under their control." 

"So where do we start looking?"Jean asked. 

"We don't-they'll contact us." 

Jean threw up her hands in frustration."No they won't!It's Logan they want to contact!" 

"And they'll think he's still here,"Bob said gently."Everyone else does." 

"They do?"Rogue asked,surprised. 

He hadn't so predisposed them,but since he brought it up he supposed he should give them a sample."I am Logan,"he said,and from the shock on all the women's faces,he knew they were seeing him exactly that way.The Professor was mildly surprised,but remained outwardly stoic. 

"How'd you do that?"Rogue asked,impressed. 

"Perception is all in the mind,"he told her,knowing full well it probably didn't clear a damn thing up.But it was factually true. 

Storm's lips turned down into a puzzled moue."How are you doing his voice?" 

"I'm not.You're just hearing me that way." 

"You're taking Logan's place,"Xavier said,as if it was a revelation. 

Bob simply nodded."They want him,but they're gonna get me." 

Xavier smiled faintly,although it was tempered by trepidation."I almost feel sorry for them already." 

Bob smiled,but in a cold,humorless way."So do I." 

Now all they had to do was wait for these fuckers to make their next move.Then,they were history. 

Not that they'd ever remember that. 

    8 

    At first,Logan wasn't sure what he was looking at.Then he wondered if he'd been duped. 

The small pile of paper were topped by photocopies of newspaper articles,circa late May and early June in '87 England, and all were about gruesome murders by a killer nicknamed (in grandiose if rather predictable fashion) the "Sussex Slasher" (his killing spree started there).He liked to slash up his victims with extremely sharp knives and basically leave them a bloody pile of remains,and his victims were-oddly,in the serial killer world-mostly men:professionals too, men in the government,the military.Logan wondered if he had killed these men. 

But Ruby had included some gruesome crime scene shots,and more out of desperation than anything else,he began searching for claw marks,trying to count them:and finally,with great relief,he realized whoever did this had more than three claws.So the so called Sussex Slasher had been responsible for the Hell massacre,or at least took part in it?  
Why didn't the Watchers make the connection?Or did they think vampires were responsible for all of it? 

Then there was a memo underneath,most of which was black out by heavy duty marker,but was probably from the secret government agency that Ruby said didn't exist.There were only a half dozen sentences not censored,but they were telling:they basically said the Slasher was not a normal serial killer but "a mutant,type unknown,with a heretofore undiscovered agenda" and "knowledge of the secret intelligence community",more or less indicating that all the 'professional' victims had ties to it. 

The last killing to make the paper was June fourth,three days before the massacre,and a deviation from the norm:an American tourist named Leonard DeJong,found in a bloody heap on a bike path near Hyde Park.In another heavily censored memo,he was identified as a "mutant with extra sensory powers",and they speculated there was a personal dispute between DeJong and the Slasher that turned fatal.Why a telepath (if he was-it was possible he wasn't;he could have been just a psychic,a telekinetic,or some variation in between) couldn't handle the Slasher was an intriguing hint of what the Slasher might be.Also,how the hell did they know DeJong was a mutant with ESP? 

Beneath it was another memo,dated May twenty seventh,lightly censored,reporting a very dangerous mutant had secretly entered the country and was to be watched "very carefully",as said mutant was "highly sensitive to surveillance and covert pursuit" as well as being "extraordinarily dangerous,and prone to outbursts of extreme homicidal violence". 

Logan wished he was surprised to see the photograph provided on the flip side was a profile shot of him,somewhere in the city,dated May twenty sixth,1987.And Srina was right;he had not aged a day.Only his wardrobe had changed (and not by much-still into the jeans,t-shirts,leather and earth tones). 

Another memo beneath,lightly censored,only had a photo of what looked like the club massacre he had seen his dream, with a single sentence typed beneath in large,bold faced font:"Slasher or Wolverine?" 

Shit-he had been a suspect all along.No wonder Ruby wanted nothing to do with him. 

"You must have an adamantium stomach to look at that stuff and still be able to eat,"Srina said,between mouthfuls of Szechwan prawns. 

They had stopped and gotten some 'take away' from a small and rather unpromising looking Chinese food place called The Red Dragon,but the food was actually pretty good.He was working on a carton of cashew chicken sitting in his lap as he perused the paperwork Ruby had given him,spread out on a low black plastic coffee table.He barely had room for his can of beer on the table amongst all the papers,copies,and photos,but he managed so far.Srina was sitting in the corner of the couch,legs folded up beneath her,currently pretending not to be glancing over his shoulder at the papers. 

"I've seen worse,"he said with a shrug,not admitting he'd probably done worse too.But maybe she knew that already. 

"Well,there's a happy thought." 

He could only shrug again,sifting through papers,hoping that there'd be some clue as to the identity of the Slasher.But all the paperwork ended with two pieces of paper:an article about a badly mangled body being fished out of the Thames on June ninth,and a memo the following day from those government assholes,declaring the body to be a "Protean mutant",identity unknown.The Slasher's last known victim?Or one of his? 

"Find any answers,Sherlock?"She asked,not quite letting it go. 

"Not really.What the hell did I do in London in June of '87?" 

He gave her a questioning look,but she shrugged it off."You were gone a lot.I can only tell you what you did here.And I bet you could guess." 

He shook his head,disgusted with her obfuscations and himself,and every goddamn thing.What did he think he was doing now?He really didn't care who killed these people,did he?He just wanted to make sure it wasn't him.He threw the papers down and sagged back against the couch,hands to his forehead.He was an idiot.A vicious idiot,if those reports could be believed. 

She touched his shoulder,and by reflex he tried to recoil from her.But his heart wasn't in it,and the couch wasn't big enough."None of this is your fault,"she said,with some hesitation. 

He let his hands fall to his lap,and scowled at her,angry enough to storm out but too damn tired to do it."How do you know that?Would you just fucking tell me what you know?Why are you holding out on me?" 

"I'm not holding out on you,Logan.There's just not a lot to tell.You were hunting some guy-you were sexy at first,then kind of scary when I realized you were more than just a tourist,but then I knew there was more going on than I could hope to figure out.Also,I kind of thought we were kindred spirits,you know?And the sex was great." 

He wished he could believe that.Well,he was willing to believe the sex part,although he was extremely disappointed he didn't remember that."What do you mean you thought we were kindred spirits?" 

She shrugged now,looking down into her carton of prawns."It sounds as corny as hell,but I thought maybe you were as lonely as me." 

He stared down at her brightly patterned,mostly crimson Oriental carpet,running a hand through his hair,wondering if she had a point.She probably did."I seem to be a stranger wherever I go,"he said,not sure if it was on topic or not. 

She nodded in understanding."I think that's a mutant thing.It's funny-my parents would never use the word mutant, ever.They attributed my hair and eye color to a pre-natal vitamin deficiency,or chemical exposure in the hospital.Can you imagine all the denial they had to live with?I first heard the term from the bullies at school,who bet I was "one of them".When I tried to look them up in the library,I was sent to the science fiction section." 

"It's easier for some people to think we don't exist." 

"Yeah.It was those same bullies who helped me figure out I really was one.One day,they were waiting after school to beat me up,and I wished they couldn't see me.And what do you know,it actually worked.I thought it was a fluke,but I soon figured out I could make people not see me,bullies or not.Even my parents.What little I heard about mutants was always bad,so I kept trying to look things up in the library,and one day the librarian gave me a book I hadn't pulled off the shelf.She insisted I needed to read it,so I took it.It was just an encyclopedia,so I didn't see what the big deal was,but when I opened the book a pamphlet fell out.It was titled "Mutantism-The Facts".It was put out by this underground mutant support group,they gave a phone number,and I remember calling it and being so nervous I thought I was gonna barf.But,in the end,I was a little disappointed:I didn't feel so unique,you know?I thought about telling my parents,but then my father had a heart attack,and their business-they were greengrocers-went under,and it seemed like larding on the misery.They didn't want to know anyways." 

He didn't know what brought on this autobiographical outburst-maybe she'd had too much beer-but it did bring up an interesting point."They still haven't figured out you're a mutant?" 

"Well,they're both dead now,but no,I don't think they ever acknowledged it,even though my abilities helped keep us financially afloat after dad died." 

"The stealing?" 

"The stealing.Mom just thought I had a great job with Lloyd's of London." 

"Didn't you ever...I don't know,want to do more with your life?" 

She frowned at him,an echoing frown appearing between her pale magenta eyebrows."Like what?Be a hero?Save the world?I'll leave that to guys like you.I'm content with my life of quiet desperation." 

"I'm not a hero,"he said defensively.He didn't know why that offended him,it just did."And how the hell do you know I ever saved the world?" 

"I have friends in the mutant underground.The papers said that failed assassination attempt on all those world leaders by mutants was due to equipment failure,but they said it was really foiled by other mutants,and they'd seen security tapes that revealed some of it.They said one of them had metal claws that came out of his hands,and I knew it could only be you.I've never met another claw guy." 

He didn't know there was such a thing as a 'mutant underground',but he knew he shouldn't be surprised."I wasn't there to save anybody.Well,no,I was,but not any politicians.I promised someone-forget it,it's not important." 

She reached out and put a hand on his leg,giving it a friendly squeeze.When he glanced at her,she was giving him a warm smile."You kinda always had it in you,you know?Even back then.You don't like seeing people get hurt,not if they don't deserve it.I probably owe my life to that." 

He looked away from her,feeling suddenly ashamed.Why should she be grateful they he hadn't killed her?It was such a fucking mess.No,he was a fucking mess.This whole thing was pathetic. 

"Oh what?"She asked,grabbing his face and turning him towards her."You're going into self-pity mode." 

"I am not,"he snapped irritably,pulling her hands away. 

But she plucked the box of cashew chicken out of his lap and put it on the arm of the couch before straddling his legs, getting her face right into his so he couldn't look away.Unless he pushed her off,which was a thought."Yes you are.You are a moody fella,aren't you?" 

"I am not,"he shot back,wondering how drunk she was.Her breath smelled more of Szechwan prawns than beer. 

She gave him a broad grin,making a small collection of fine lines appear in the corners of her eyes.Maybe she was older than she looked,but time was starting to take a gradual toll,more visibly than on him.Not that it mattered;she was still oddly beautiful,exotic edging up to just slightly alien."Yes,you are.Any chance I can get you into a better mood?" 

It had occurred to him it was at least twenty four hours since he'd last slept,and he was really in no mood to fool around with a woman who he knew-on some level-was lying to him.Lately,he'd been having nothing but empty sex with women who really didn't care that much about him:Helga was a case in point.She liked him,but that's where it ended. Didn't it just get a little ego crushing and pointless at some point? 

Wait a minute-what the hell was he thinking? 

He smiled at her,and said,"I don't know.What do ya got in mind?" 

"I was thinking maybe we could try and jog your memory,"she said,wrapping her arms around his neck and finally kissing him.She tasted of Szechwan and beer,her remaining lipstick sticking to his lips like glue,but none of it was unpleasant. 

He slid his hands beneath her shirt,making contact with her warm,soft skin,and on some level it occurred to him she just might be trying to distract him from examining those papers more clearly,derail his train of thought before it really got going,but it was almost remarkable how much he didn't care. 

Hell,when you got down to it,this was probably all a big mistake anyways. 

** 

    The storefront was in the basement of an illegal gambling parlor,a grimy looking cinderblock tower in a row of grimy cinderblock towers,and as soon as he opened glass fronted door,he was greeted with the sound of tinkling brass chimes and a stench of sandalwood and sage that could not quite mask a stranger smell underneath:it was like waterlogged cardboard gone to mold,or concentrated mildew baking in the sun.Of course,the sun had just gone down outside,so that explained nothing.But this was a place for the unexplained,which was exactly why Control had left the cozy confines of the compound to come to this shithole of a building:he needed answers that defied rational logic. 

The old woman appeared in the nearest doorway,parting a blue beaded curtain with her arm.She was short with a sturdy build,body mostly hidden in a bright,tropical patterned shapeless dress,her skin the color and type you might expect to see on an unearthed mummy on display at the Natural History Museum;she looked smoked and cured, preserved forever in the dessicating sands of the desert. 

Her round face appeared sunken,awash in folds and wrinkles,and brought to mind a dried apple doll.Her soot black eyes gazed at him impassively."You are one of the government men,"she said,in an accent you might have mistaken for European if you didn't get around much.But her accent was like nothing on this earth,because she really wasn't from around here. 

Control simply nodded,wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible."I need answers on a type of demon we may be encountering in the near future,who isn't in our databanks.I know your 'databank' is more extensive than ours." 

The old woman dipped her head."Take a seat." 

This 'store' was just a dinky 'fortuneteller's ' place,therefore the only furniture in the room (besides bookshelves holding various occult related knick knacks,such as glass skulls,crystal balls,a stuffed raven,and some sort of Polynesian fetish with the biggest dick he had ever seen) was a small wooden table,bracketed by two flimsy looking wooden chairs.He took one with a great deal of caution,sure it was going to break and put splinters in his ass,but it held.Only when he was seated did he realize the tablecloth was decorated with an alternating pattern of Tarot cards in miniature:Death,The Tower,and The Devil seemed to be the favorites. 

She sat down in the chair across from him with an aching slowness,as if afraid she might break a hip if she missed,and slowly unwound the azure blue scarf she wore around her head like a turban.Her hair,as brittle as straw and the color of landfill mud,fell about her head like wilted flowers,but the most interesting thing was the third eye in the middle of her high forehead.Uncovered,it now opened,revealing a slit shaped red pupil in an eye as yellow as the sun. 

"What is this demon?"The Loor demon asked,neatly folding her scarf and placing it in her lap. 

"Something like drayshahjaan,"he told her."We tried numerous permutations and found nothing."The telepathic scan of Summers had turned up several interesting things,most notable a 'school' that secretly harbored mutants of all stripes,a school where Logan had hidden out for some time.But,oddly,it had turned up a couple of recent demon encounters involving Logan,Summers,and several mutant women,but they seemed to have a demon on their side,that Summers thought disparagingly of as "Logan's friend".The telepath dug up a memory where a Ressik demon called "Logan's friend" (Bob?Oh please!) a "drayshahjaan",which seemed to scare the shit out the normally psychotic and fearless Ressiks.But Summers didn't know what it meant;no one knew what it meant.This dray whatever looked Human, and seemed to speak with an exaggerated Australian accent,which just made it all the more funny.It had to be a joke. 

All three of the woman's eyes widened."Drai'shajan,"she gasped,as if he had just said something taboo. 

"Yes,"he agreed,growing impatient with the creepy old woman/demon/thing."What the hell is it?" 

She was quiet for a moment,her three eyes staring vacantly at a nothing point in front of her face.Just as he was about to pull out his sidearm and wave it at her,she said,"The Drai'shajan was considered a myth by the Watchers,by many demons,but it is now generally accepted to exist.There were several stories stories about it,but this is the generally accepted one. 

"There was a war among the Higher Beings,sometimes called the Powers That Be.When one side lost,a troublemaker was chosen to take the blame,and cast down into the Lower Realms-this plane.It was confined in the guise of a lower wretch-a Human-stripped of all power and memory.Being a Lower being was the worst punishment that could be given.  
They knew it would probably be killed by other Lower beings,having no knowledge of this life or how to survive it,but its life was saved by,of all things,the lowest of the low-a demon.This demon helped and sheltered the outcast,unaware of its true nature;some say it loved it,and there is speculation there were even offspring.When the Highers discovered their pariah was not only still alive but thriving on the lower plane,they sent out Emissaries to finish the job the Lower beings should have done." 

"This story ends before tomorrow,right?"Control snapped,glancing at his watch.He should have known better than to expect a quick answer from an old woman. 

She didn't acknowledge him in any way,seemingly caught up in her own story."The demon tried to stop the Emissaries, knowing full well it had no chance at all against Higher beings.It even tried to bargain for the pariah's life,to return to its people,even though as a Higher it would look down upon him as a filthy creature.They gave it the chance to withdraw,but it would not,even in the face of its own destruction.It even accused the Highers of being no better than demons;in fact,of being just a different breed of demon.The Emissaries were horrified-no one spoke to a Higher that way,or refused to obey them,and certainly not a Lowest of the Low-but one was fascinated to discover a Lowest with genuine intent,especially since his breed were only noted for their complete and utter self-interest.At the moment of its death,it fused the Lowest and the Fallen together." 

Control stared at her blankly."What do you mean fused?" 

"It's difficult to explain in terms we can comprehend.But at the moment the demon and the pariah stopped existing separately,they started existing as one,in a fashion.The abilities stripped from the Fallen were infused into the demon; the powers merged." 

"So...he's a god,is that what you're saying?" 

"He is a bridge between two worlds,"she explained,her slightly rheumy eyes finally settling on him for the first time since she started her story."He is the darkness and the light.He is the thing that should not be." 

"A simple yes or no will suffice." 

"He is a hybrid,an amalgam,a combination of the Lowest of the Low and the Highest of the High:a gestalt entity that has become more than the sum of his parts.The Powers now fear him." 

Control's brow furrowed as he tried to work out the logic in that statement."Why?Isn't he just as powerful-or less so -than them?" 

"In your terms,less,because he is not pure,not completely of them.But in practical terms he is more powerful,because simply by existing he proves what he said as a pure demon-the Highers are just another form of demon,no better than others,save for the exalted position they have assumed for themselves." 

"Is there a way to kill him?" 

"Unknown." 

"Can't the Powers That Be knock him off?They made him,they can unmake him." 

"Although he is a bastard child,they know he may not need a corporeal presence to survive,and they prefer he remain on this plane.As for 'unmaking' him...it is said he has powers of his own,ones they couldn't anticipate.They stay away." 

He scowled at her,not at all pleased.He wanted answers,and a way to kill the goddamn thing if it tagged along with Logan."There has to be some way to kill it,or at least stop it.How can you stop him?" 

"You can't." 

"Everything has a weakness.The Ressiks were immune to him,right?" 

"Immune to his control,but he can still kill them." 

"There has to be some way to fight him." 

"There isn't.If you wish to remain as you are,avoid any conflict with the Drai'shajan.He will get what he wants anyways." 

"What do you mean if I wish to remain as I am?" 


	6. Part 6

She stared at him like he was the stupidest man ever."He can change everything." 

Well,that was as clear as mud."Are you saying we could blow him up and not kill him?Sic telepaths on him-" 

"I doubt it would even buy you time." 

He jumped to his feet,throwing his arms out in frustration."Nothing is all powerful!Give me something to use against him!" 

She was as still and silent as a statue of Buddha for several long seconds,then said,"You have two choices.Cut a deal with another god,and hope it can stand against him.He is not popular among the Highers,but he has allies,many of whom believe he will replace or overthrow the Powers eventually,so be careful who you choose.Or,simply be gone when he comes for you." 

He snorted in disgust,shaking his head."You're worse than useless." 

"Back off while you still can.Better the Powers be your enemy than him,because the Powers hardly bother with this plane.He lives here." 

That almost sounded like the punchline to a joke."I am not throwing away our best chance to revive Weapon X because of some stupid ass hybrid demon god!It ain't happening." 

She gazed at him with the unwaivering confidence of a true believer,and that just irritated him all the more."Give up and lose this chance;persist and lose everything." 

"So you're a psychic now,are you?" 

She looked almost miffed by that."I am a teller of fortunes." 

"Really?Then why didn't you see this coming?"He wondered,pulling out his Glock and shooting her in her third eye. 

The back of her skull blew out,splattering her blackish brains all over the dusty hardwood floor,and after a moment she toppled slowly out of her chair,remaining eyes empty and glassy,and hit the ground with a resounding thud. 

He holstered his sidearm,disappointed that that hadn't been more satisfying.He dug out the pack of Marlboros he had hidden in his side pocket-he had tried to quit several times but the job wouldn't let him-and slid out the disposable lighter he had beneath the cellophane of the open pack. 

He shook a cigarette out and pulled it from the pack with his lips,fingering the red plastic lighter like a good luck charm.He lit the cigarette,then walked over to the shelf where the stuffed raven watched him with its glassy black eyes. 

"Nevermore,"he said,flicking the light and holding it under its black needle of a beak.The glossy feathers of its face caught first,sending up black smoke and filling the air with the noxious scent of chemical preservatives and charred feathers. 

The flames quickly consumed the lice ridden bird,and he made sure it had spread to the plywood bookcase before turning and walking to the door,taking a deep drag off his cigarette as he did.The one good thing about his half hearted efforts to quit was that the nicotine hit his bloodstream twice as hard and gave him a great buzz. 

There were flimsy floral curtains bracketing the door's window,and he held the lighter flame to them until the thin nylon caught,the fire quickly racing up the side of the door as if it had been yearning for escape. 

So the creepy bitch wouldn't help him.Fine-there was more than one way to skin a cat. 

Or a god.Whatever. 

** 

London-1987 

    She knew he was kind of a freaky dude to begin with,but Srina found it frightening the way he was always looking back,and-several times-straight at her. 

Of course,that was impossible.She was in invisible (or,as she liked to call it 'stealth') mode,setting aside the fact that this was Piccadilly Circus and as crowded as hell:even if she wasn't in stealth mode,how could he see her from so far back,and smell her downwind from him? 

But Logan kept pausing to glance back,and she had to be careful never to get too close,just keep him in sight.He kept looking back,his green eyes narrowed and searching the area by the shop window she had flattened herself against, sniffing the air as if trying to catch a scent,even though what little wind there was was blowing away from him.He seemed to stare at her for a good long moment,even though she wasn't there (well,not that he could see). 

Spooky man.Spooky spooky spooky.Sexy,in a rugged,taciturn,hairy sort of way;but there was no getting past the inherent sense of danger he possessed.It seemed to ooze from his pores,double up with his pheromones,and create a sort of intoxicating menace for trouble seekers like her. 

But the question was,how much trouble was he?This was why she was following him-she had to know exactly what she had gotten herself into. 

Right now,she figured it was deep shit. 

Okay,she counted on a one night stand,and it sort of got out of control,but whose fault was that?Well,okay,hers.It was hard enough to meet mutants in a public place (those secret 'mutant clubs' were so bloody depressing,and they never had any decent beer),but rarely did she come across one like him.Good looking (the guy was cut like a diamond),and with no extraneous body parts (tails,extra limbs,scales,fur,or feathers) and no great love of conversation who could fuck like a beast-her kind of guy.Figures he wouldn't be British or staying for long.But she thought his whole brooding dangerous type thing was just an act,part of his 'mystique',until she began to get serious clues that it wasn't.The first clue was the nightmares. 

She didn't even think it was possible to be asleep and yet still twitch as much as he did,and make the noises he did, which sounded like he was being beaten:lots of grunts and monosyllables that could have been words like 'no' or 'stop' but couldn't quite make it past the throat.He'd never say what the nightmares were-"Nothing,"was his typical response before he went off to hide in the bathroom-but it was so obviously a lie it was kind of insulting.Still,he was so cocky and self-confident (for good reason,she was sure),it made her really curious what could sink under his skin like that,what could freak him out and haunt him like that.Either it was something really hideous,or he was a softy underneath it all.Somehow,she didn't think the latter was likely. 

The second clue was all these mysterious phone calls he got that sounded portentous and cryptic,like it was a vague form of code.He just said it was "business",but then never specified the business he was in (clue number three).There was also the fact that he carried a concealed weapon-some kind of sleek black handgun in a leather holster.He said he never used it because he didn't need it and he hated it,but they made him carry it "for security purposes" (otherwise unspecified) (clue number four).He said he worked for a security firm at the American embassy (not the Canadian one?Clue number five),but,ironically enough,when he said he was going there he never did (big fat clue number six).In fact,he was supposedly heading there right now,but since when was the embassy in Piccadilly?Did they relocate and not tell anyone? 

She didn't think he was a drug dealer,he was just not the type.A terrorist?He didn't seem to have any political agenda that she could discern,so she doubted he was IRA (unless he was freelance...was Logan an Irish name?),but he could be a mutant terrorist.She'd heard about them,muties with grudges against the wider,'mundane' world,but as sour as Logan generally seemed,he didn't seem to hate race in particular.It might be fair to say he detested both mutants and mundanes equally. 

But there was no denying a guy that seemed so dangerous probably was to some degree,and his muscles were like rock;she couldn't help but think of him as the human equivalent of a tank.When he said he was "in security" she honestly believed that wasn't too far from the truth.Maybe he had super human strength among his mutations,but even so,a guy didn't get muscles like that just by showing up.Also,he seemed to have a genuine belief in his ability to kick any ass at any place at any time,and again she thought that was probably earned as well.That was part of what was so attractive about him;his virility and his obvious comfort with himself were not things he acquired as a facade, but seemingly inborn traits he'd honed to perfection. 

There was no denying she was strongly attracted to him.But there was also no denying he scared the shit out of her. 

Although he looked displeased,he finally turned around and moved on,even the preoccupied crowds on the street more than happy to make way for him.She remained unseen and trailed after him,having to thread her way through the human traffic since she could see them but they couldn't see her,careful not to gain too much on Logan;she only needed to keep him in sight,not be his shadow. 

Up ahead,close to the end of the block,Logan ducked into a bookstore,which was odd enough by itself,but odder still was on his way in,he held the door open for a woman who was leaving.It was a small gesture,an afterthought, probably took less than a second,but it was bizarre to see him doing it.Big tough guy who seemed to dislike everyone keeping a door from slamming in a woman's face?That seemed uncharacteristic.Of course,it seemed uncharacteristic for Logan to be in a bookshop too,so it all seemed wrong. 

This next bit was tricky,as she had to wait for someone to come in or go out so she could slip inside the open door,but luckily she didn't have to wait long,as a dark suited man who looked like someone's accountant came out,and she went inside,not even needing to keep the door open a fraction longer than normal. 

This was a big chain store that tried to seem modern yet cozy,with windows letting in lots of light and the aisles 'broken up' into quasi-horizontal lines,the bookcases sleek modern affairs painted white,presumably because regular old brown wasn't quite hip.Actually,it looked a lot like an Ikea model room,but what did she know about designing? 

It wasn't very crowded at this time of day,so it wasn't hard to find Logan.He was in-of all places-the science fiction section.And he wasn't alone either. 

The powder blue carpet muffled her footsteps,but she knew getting too close to him was asking for trouble,so she tried to keep an eye on him in the convex mirrors set strategically in the rafters,to reflect sunlight and show anyone shoplifting.She could see Logan randomly picking books from the shelf and pretending to look at them before putting them back,the same bored yet irritated expression on his face.There was a man in the aisle,his back to him,slowly working his way down towards him.In his sleek pale grey suit,he looked like an unctuous band manager,but she noticed,when he was reshelving a book called "Mutations",there was a bulge near the shoulder of his jacket-a gun? Had to be. 

She kept her back to the sci-fi section,leaning flat against the end of the bookcase,and strained to listen as she watched the man with the slicked back hair turn to the shelf Logan was pretending to peruse,and stand right beside him."You haven't found him yet,"the man whispered,his voice so low she could barely hear it.The man was British,much to her surprise. 

"I haven't caught his scent,"Logan said.It sounded like he was speaking through his gritted teeth. 

"I thought you were the best,Wolverine,"the Brit hissed,sounding almost mocking. 

"I am,"Logan replied,sounding even more ticked off than before."But I ain't a magician.I can't make somethin' from nothin'."She saw his reflection in the curved mirror look towards the front of the aisle,where she was hiding in spite of her invisibility.There was no way in hell he could know she was here-right? 

"If there's another incident,it won't reflect well on you,"the Brit warned,sounding smugly pleased with himself (about what she had no idea). 

"I'm not the one who made this rogue,"Logan snapped back,his voice little more than a mutter."And I ain't the one who could lose my hide." 

Since he was on Logan's right,blocked by his body from the mirror,Srina didn't get a good look at him,but she briefly saw the profile of the British man when Logan pulled a book off the shelf.He had a severe face,a beak like nose,and was frowning violently,his sharp blue eyes giving Logan a sidelong death look that she was sure had Logan quaking in his boots (assuming he was scared of shaved weasels)."I can have you taken down,Wolverine,"the Brit sneered. "Don't you forget it." 

"No you can't,"Logan replied,his voice a low and deadly whisper."I was brought in 'cause no one else could handle this thing.I'm your last,best hope.So don't threaten me unless you want to pick your intestines up off the floor, asshole."Logan angrily shelved the book,and without looking at the Brit,he turned his back on him."Meeting's over." 

She watched him walk away,straight out of the store,leaving the British man silently fuming in the aisle. 

She had no idea what that was about (Wolverine?Was that his mutant name?Why?),but it didn't sound good. 

In fact,reading between the lines,she was sure she'd been way off.Logan was no terrorist. 

He was an assassin. 

What she couldn't figure out was who he was going to kill,and if she would live through this. 

    9 

Maine 

    He didn't know where they were-somewhere outside of Bangor,in some leafy little suburb that could have ended up on any postcard in any drugstore in New England.Maybe it was pretty;he really didn't know.As far as he was concerned,nothing was pretty,nothing was ugly;all was just what it was.He felt nothing about anything,one way or another. 

The man-his name,he'd found out,was Wilson-parked his Saturn across the street from an old fashioned white clapboard church.The bright orange early morning sun seemed to be backlighting the huge white cross on the very top of the peaked roof,and it all looked very holy and quaint-if you ignored the sign board in front of the church, advertising this morning's sermon of choice."Mutants:Children of Satan".And judging from the parking lot,the church had a full house. 

"What d'ya think about that?"Wilson asked,lighting up a cigarette. 

He shrugged."Why should I care?" 

Wilson snorted humorously,as if that was a joke."Yeah,why shoulda ya?Ready to do this thing?" 

"I have my orders,"he said,wondering if he could kill Wilson .Maybe if he asked really nicely. 

Wilson pressed a button,lowering his window so he could flick an ash outside.He was a bland middle aged man with thinning brown hair and a face that resembled that of a Basset hound who'd had his ears tacked back.He doubted he'd be missed by anyone. 

"Carry on,then,"Wilson said,as if he was taking orders from him. 

He wasn't,but he got out of the car anyways,walking into the middle of the quiet,empty street. 

A faint,cool breeze rustled the leaves of the sugar maples lining both sides of the road,and all was so quiet he could hear the birds singing blocks away.It was a tranquil scene,cozy;he thought he should have felt something. 

But Cyclops was at a loss as to what he was supposed to feel.He felt nothing at all;mild irritation with Wilson (who talked and smoked way too much) seemed to be all he could manage.But that wasn't strange,not for him. 

He was Cyclops-he belonged to the Organization.He was their number one soldier;he kept the order and the peace. He had no past,no future.Just this.Always this. 

And even though he didn't always understand his orders,he did not question them.That was not his place.His place was right here,doing his job. 

He raised a hand to his visor,and let loose a stream of red light that punched through the top of the church like it was nothing but gingerbread,and as it collapsed inward,crushing the base of the church,he heard screams from the inside. But he ignored it and continued to sweep the beam through the parking lot,crushing SUV's like tin cans and blowing up trucks,their gas tanks exploding on impact and sending fireballs belching into the clear morning sky. 

Cyclops noted peripherally that it was probably going to be a beautiful day as he continued razing the entire block. 

Maybe he didn't know why,but orders were orders. 

** 

    Jean dreamed she was standing on a pier,the smell of rotting vegetation almost overpowering as it drifted up from the stagnant,dark water below,and watched as several men-maybe ten- attacked another,wielding bottles and crowbars.She took a breath to shout a warning,but as the men-dressed like dock workers,or something of that ilk -started flying back violently,she realized the man being attacked didn't need the warning.In fact,it was Logan, and the men doing the attacking probably needed the warning;they had no real chance at all. 

But she still moved,walking to the front of the pier,ready to step in and save the men in case Logan let his (justified) rage go to his head,when she had a slight feeling of dislocation,and the air between Logan and the beginning of the pier seemed to waver,shimmer like the surface of a pond.This was not happening now;she knew somehow that this was past,some incident from long ago.So why was she dreaming of it now? 

She wondered if this was something she had picked up from Logan's mind when she tried to read it,unaware she had gleaned it.But it felt immediate somehow,important.The only thing that connected to anything,as far as she could tell,was the men were British. 

"Stop fucking about,"Logan shouted,looking past her,searching the many hiding places of the wharf with his eyes. "Come out and face me!What,don't you wanna gut me too?!" 

He stepped over the unconscious bodies of the men,and his claws sprung from his hands.In the moonlight they gleamed like short swords,possessed of a strange sort of beauty while never conquering their obvious,breathtaking lethality.She didn't know how or why,but she knew this was fight was going to be brutal,and maybe not something she wanted to see.Still,she watched with rapt curiosity as Logan's gaze seem to narrow as he looked at a stack of crates just off to her right,and she knew he had found the one he was looking for,even if they hadn't shown themselves yet. She could feel the tension as he crept closer,and suddenly it was like a horror movie she didn't want to watch but couldn't turn away from.She knew he'd come out all right in the end-he was still alive-but still she almost couldn't bear to see what was going to happen.He was going to be hurt badly,she just knew it... 

"Jean,"she heard a voice distantly calling her name,and through a fog of semi-consciousness,she thought it was Scott. 

"What?"She replied,mumbling,opening her eyes.She was aware of the psychic pressure the millisecond before her eyes focused,and was therefore only slightly disappointed to see Bob standing in the open doorway of her room,leaning in from the hallway.The look on his face was pained and sympathetic,so that couldn't be good.Bob looking sorry about something was an instant warning sign of big trouble. 

"Sorry to wake you,"he began,using the magic alarm bell word."But I think the Ogres have dropped their first clue about Scott's location,and it's a doozy." 

She sat up.almost instantly awake,the mention of Scott's name (and remembering what had happened to him) clearing away the cobwebs immediately."Do you know where he is?" 

Bob grimace apologetically.Oh,it got worse and worse."No.But I know where he's been." 

She stared at him."What does that mean?" 

He jerked his head back,gesturing to another room."Come on,you'll see." 

With that,he closed the door and left,and she could only ponder why that seemed to sound so damning. 

She quickly pulled on a sweater and was still zipping up her skirt as she stepped into the hall.The rest of the wardrobe and make up could wait until she knew what the hell was going on. 

Bob was waiting for her at the end of the hall-he had a strange sense of politeness,especially considering he was both a demon and Australian-and waited for her before leading the way."Understand,I don't like to watch the news,"Bob began,as she became increasingly aware of the idiot blare of the television set coming from the Professor's office.But the Professor didn't have a t.v. in his office,did he?"I think it's a bunch of manipulated hype for the most part.But I have a grandkid,Lani,who works at a branch office for a cable news network down in NYC,and I asked her to give me a ring if  she heard of anything weird,either mutant or government related,crossing her desk.I didn't care if it would make the news or not.Well,she gave me a jingle less than an hour ago,and I'm sad to say this not only made the news,it went national." 

She shook her head,trying to ignore the first question that first popped into her head,which was "How many freaking grandkids do you have?" He seemed to have an endless supply of them,like he hoarded them in case of a shortage.She was also tempted to ask how many kids he had,but part of her feared the answer would be somewhere along the line of "half of Australia".She tried desperately to stick to the point,especially since Bob had yet to make a lot of sense. "What went national?" 

"Scott,"he replied,propping open the door to Xavier's office so she could lead the way inside. 

It was still early,so only the Professor was there,the light from a portable t.v. on his desk casting his face in harsh blue light that made him look a thousand years old.The grim expression on his face didn't help matters. 

-'What's happened?'-she sent to him telepathically. 

She sensed his emotions more than his thoughts (Bob was just pressure;psychic noise),and to say he radiated a sense of foreboding and doom would almost be an understatement.-'Something beyond our worst nightmares,'-he telepathically replied,physically turning the t.v. around so the screen faced her. 

It was a sensibly coifed female reporter standing in front of a smoldering street (fire trucks were still visible in the background),and for a moment,as the woman reeled off casualty figures (ten dead at the scene,thirty odd in local hospitals),Jean thought it was a report on some bombing in the Middle East.It was horrible,but what did it have to do with Scott? 

It was then she noticed that,according to the graphic,the report was from Maine. 

She slowly sank into a chair in front of the Professor's desk,eyes riveted to the tiny screen in abject horror as surviving witnesses and police officials described a "senseless mutant terrorist attack" on a Baptist church and the entire block it was sited on.The mutant,who drove away from the scene in an unmarked car,was described as having "destructive red beams that shot from his eyes". 

"Scott wouldn't do this,"she finally said,once she found her voice again. 

"No,he wouldn't,"Bob agreed."He didn't." 

Xavier gave him a skeptical look.She knew,if he could have sent messages to Bob,he would have sent,'Don't patronize her'."It's painfully obvious he-" 

"It was Scott,yes,but not the Scott you know,"Bob interrupted."This one is some psychic construct by the Organization,one with probably no free will.Scott is no more responsible for this than Logan was for what he did when he was completely Wolverine.Brainwashing is an extenuating circumstance." 

"I thought you said he wouldn't be hurt,"she snapped,feeling her face grow hot with sudden rage. 

"I'm sure he wasn't hurt.They just replaced his personality and memories with something more malleable.Done telepathically,it wouldn't have hurt at all." 

She glared at him,and was about to snap his head off ,but then she heard Xavier in her mind.-'He is trying to be helpful,Jean.He doesn't mean to be callous.'- 

-'You can't be sure about that.'- 

"I'm not trying to be,"Bob said,startling them both.He could eavesdrop on a private telepathic conversation?"I'm not saying this isn't hideous,it is,all I'm telling you is that he wasn't physically tortured." 

She took a deep breath,trying to rein in her surging anger."How does this help us find him?Is he in Maine?" 

"No.There was a previous attack-no one was injured;it was just an unmanned Army depot-but the interesting thing about the attacks is,on a map,they form a straight line.A straight line pointing up to Canada." 

She continued to glare at Bob in disbelief."Oh good.We've narrowed down his position to an entire country." 

Bob smirked,but in a gently ironic way."No,actually I've narrowed it down to an entire mountain range." 

She continued to stare at him in a way that always made her hardest pupils flinch.But Bob didn't even seem to notice."Oh really?How?" 

"Well,the clue was a message to Logan.That would probably indicate the Canadian Rockies as their final destination point.Or at least where they set the trap to capture Logan again." 

"But where in the Canadian Rockies?"Xavier asked,and she envied his calm,although she knew inside he was just dying.Scott had been the first mutant he had tried to 'mentor';he was the closest thing to a son Xavier had. 

"Somewhere between the former Alkali Lake and Grand Cache locations would seem far too obvious,yet I can't dismiss it,because,in spite of his constant evasion of them for years,they still seem to operate under the assumption that Logan is a dumb animal.Or at least an easily manipulated one." 

"So you've narrowed it down to hundreds of miles of barely accessible mountainous terrain?"she asked,unable to believe this guy.He acted arrogant,yet never seemed it:he honestly believed he knew everything. 

"Actually,more like a thousand or so,"he admitted,with no shame whatsoever."But it absolutely doesn't matter,Jean. There are two very big things working in our favor.One:All I need is one person who knows where the base is,or saw something unusual.They will tell us all we need to know.Two:They want Logan to find them.They will come to him." 

"Logan isn't-"she began,then stopped,remembering that Bob had only dropped his Logan guise for them (her,Xavier, Storm,and Rogue) because it seemed a little eerie to have him here and yet know it wasn't him,in spite of what their minds and their ears were telling them.Bob had even agreed to fill in on a self defense class for Logan,since the kids thought he was "Mr. Logan" (a sobriquet that seemed to drive the real Logan crazy."Logan,just Logan,all right?").As he explained to them:"I can fight.I just don't like to."Bob could sub temporarily,but not for long,as his lack of what Rogue insisted on referring to as Logan's "killer instinct" would eventually prove him to be an imposter.Even Bob acknowledged that,and added that when it came to physical fighting,Logan was a much better "ad libber" than he could ever claim to be. 

Bob looked at Xavier,and said,"With your permission,I'd like to borrow your swoopy jet and head out.I'd like to think I'd beat them out there,but I have to believe these people have their own super fast mode of transport." 

"You can't go alone,"Xavier said,so gently it hardly seemed like an order. 

"I think it would be best if I did.I can handle them." 

"What if they're ready for you?" 

"No one is ready for me." 

"I'm going,"Jean insisted,her gaze scudding from Xavier to Bob."If  Scott is out there,I can find him."Well,that was just a hope,but she honestly believed she could,given the chance. 

Bob frowned at her,but in a manner so mild it seemed hardly serious."I knew you'd want to,but these bastards are particularly vicious,Jean.They know that they can hardly hurt Logan,so they will hurt the people around him to make him suffer.They will probably assume you're his-well,my-lover,and try and take you out." 

"I am not-"she started,but then she paused and rubbed her morning dry eyes.She was going to point out she was not Logan's lover,but everyone here knew that.She didn't know why she was ready to deny it (except,it had crossed her mind,hadn't it?It didn't matter that he was absolutely not her type;there was still something magnetic about him. And physically...well,he was too hairy,but there was still no denying he was a very attractive man in spite of it.And that kiss she tried never to think about...hadn't that been one hell of a kiss..).She looked up,feeling clearer of mind, and said,"I can handle myself,Bob." 

He looked doubtful enough that she felt insulted,but he relented with surprising ease.""All right,Jean,"he sighed. "But get into a battle mindset.I'm not asking you to kill,just be ready to wield that telekinesis like a battering ram at a moment's notice.These guys are professional rat bastards.They want to hurt you;they want to kill you.Never forget that." 

"How can I?"She replied.Look what they had done to Logan. 

And now,look what they had done to Scott. 

She knew revenge was pointless,stupid,and wrong,and yet she couldn't help but hope,in some dark corner of her mind,that Bob made them pay for all of this.Because if anyone could,it was Bob that could make them hurt,in ways none of them could probably even imagine. 

** 

London-1987 

    It had occurred to her to try and rush back to her flat,beat Logan back there,but she didn't know if Logan was headed there.And besides,why should she be there waiting for him?She ostensibly had a life too. 

Srina wandered around Piccadilly for a while,randomly taking things that caught her eye,perfectly aimless and wildly pointless,which was her life in a nutshell.But what was so bad about that? 

She never saw Logan again.She did see the unctuous little man get in a car with government (!) plates,though,and it made her wonder what was up.A Canadian working for the British government?Alone that seemed unlikely. Combined with the fact that he was a mutant,it seemed impossible.So what the hell was going on? 

When she finally wandered home,she thought Logan was gone until she heard the hiss of the shower bleeding through the wall.Her first thought was 'he's washing off the blood',which was disturbing enough as it was,but even more disturbing was the fact that the idea hardly bothered her at all. 

She wandered into her bedroom,a closet sized affair where the small bathroom was a mere adjunct to the space,as if slapped on as an afterthought,and wondered what she should do. 

The most obvious thing would be to pretend there was nothing wrong,and while lying was second nature to her (she even lied when the truth was easier,simply out of habit),she didn't know why,but she thought it wouldn't be so easy this time.But the alternate idea-confronting him point blank-was right out.How stupid did you have to be to admit not only were you spying on a guy,but spying on guy who,in all probability,was a hit man working for the government on a secret project?Wasn't that just asking for a bullet to the head?So what did that leave? 

Well,lies,lies,and more lies.So this should be a breeze for her.In theory. 

She could leave;he probably didn't know she was here.But truth be told she was tired.Not in a needing to sleep way, but in a world weary sort of way.It was very possible that not attempting to really disappear-get totally lost before Logan came looking for her-would cost her her life.So why didn't that bother her? 

She undressed slowly,carefully placing the designer clothes she stole from an upscale fashion boutique several months ago on the lone arm chair in her darkened bedroom,wondering why the things she stole never did much for her anymore.At first,she got a sort of illicit thrill from it,but now it had become routine,predictable.The thrill of the hunt was gone.Even her occasional side job-stealing stuff on commission for a wealthy fence-had run out of excitement.As well as her mutation had served her (and had it ever),she was still just a one trick pony,and even she was getting bored with her own shtick.She wondered if Logan ever got bored with his. 


	7. Part 7

She opened the bathroom door quietly,wondering if she could sneak up on him.But she hardly had one foot on the linoleum covered floor when he said,without even bothering to open the dark blue shower curtain,"You're out of shampoo." 

She shook her head:the guy was too good.It was so fucking creepy."I had no idea you used it,"she replied, pulling back the curtain herself. 

"Ha,"he replied,turning his face up into the powerful stream of water coming from the shower head. 

As she stepped into the tub behind him,closing the curtain after her,she knew he mustn't have known she followed him today,because if he had wanted to kill her first this would have been the opportune time.He hadn't even looked at her when she pulled the curtain back. 

But the more she thought about it,the less it proved.It was possible he was in no hurry at all. 

She distracted herself from her own thoughts by taking a good look at him.He had one of the best male bodies she had ever seen,in person or otherwise.Strong,lean legs that led up to a tight little ass and a broad,muscular back that she sometimes wanted to take a bite out of for reasons unknown even to her.And that was just the rear view;the front view was even more spectacular. 

She watched the water sluice from his hair and down his back before picking the bar of glycerine soap from the dish and rubbing it across his back.Well,it allowed her touch him (always a nice experience) and gave her a reason for being here."So how'd it go?"She asked,deciding to pretend she was clueless. 

"How'd what go?"He asked,not quite looking over his shoulder at her. 

"The thing at the embassy." 

He snorted a laugh through his nose,and she felt the muscles in his back ripple under his strangely soft skin as he turned to face her."Is that the game you want to play,doll?" 

She gazed at him blankly,all the while feeling a cold shock of fear course down her spine,in spite of the constant shower of warm water.He knew.Damn it,he knew!She wondered if she was dead,and then if she actually cared."What do you mean?"She asked,striving for complete confusion since even she wouldn't believe her pretending to be innocent. 

She met his bluish green eyes fearlessly,and while they seemed stony with disbelief and anger,she could still not see a killer in his eyes.Beads of water were suspended in his eyelashes like diamonds,and she realized,as if for the first time,he actually had nice eyes,almost kind in spite of the circumstances."You know what I mean,Srina,"he said,his voice low and dark. 

She stared back at him,refusing to budge an inch,even though it was completely idiotic.She just couldn't concede the fact that not only had she been spying on him,she heard everything.There was a possibility he was bluffing."No,I don't.Why don't you tell me?" 

For a long moment he just stared at her,the hiss of the water and the sound of it hitting the tiles the only noise,and she did wonder if this was it.Killing her in the shower would save on clean up,since her blood would go straight down the drain.She watched him frown slowly,a muscle in his jaw twitching like it was attempting to punch its way through his skin,and a shadow seemed to move behind his eyes.She was sure he was going to say he had to kill her,but suddenly he got the most curious look on his face;the best way she could describe it was pained.His mouth opened and he took a deep breath to speak,but then he stopped.There was such a strange look in his eye she wasn't sure if she should be scared or feel bad for him."This is my fault,"he finally said,sounding strangely defeated."I should never have gotten involved with you." 

"You want to end it?"She realized after she said it that could be taken a couple of different ways. 

He seemed to understand that,but he let it go."They can't know about you.If they do...I don't know what's going to happen." 

"I think you do,"she replied,and that's when he did the most extraordinary thing.He winced.It was brief but obvious,and seemed as out of character as him not letting the door slam shut on that woman's face. What the hell was he?There was no such thing as a hit man with conscience,except in really bad movies. 

"I don't want to hurt you,Srina,"he said,his voice so soft she could barely hear it over the roar of the water. 

"Then don't,"she replied,touched by the haunted look in his eyes."Who are you,Logan?" 

He looked agonized by what she thought was a simple question."I don't know." 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips,feeling inexplicably bad for him. He really had no idea at all,not a one.He was functioning on something close to auto-pilot,hoping the real thing would kick in one of these days.No wonder he seemed so distant,far away even when they were sharing the same bed.Mr. Bad Ass suddenly seemed like a lost little boy,caught in a world he couldn't hope to understand.As he returned the kiss,his strong wet arms sliding around her waist and pressing her tight against his rock solid body,she wondered how close to the truth that was. 

** 

London-Present Day 

    Logan had been collecting his clothes when he was suddenly overcome by a sense of deja vu. 

He had already found his boxers and his jeans in the tiny corridor leading to the bedroom,and he was bending down to pick up his shirt on the living room floor when he noticed the coffee table had gotten knocked over at some point and scattered the file Ruby gave him all over the carpet.It was seeing the photos strewn at his feet while he was picking up his shirt that it hit him. 

But what the hell did it mean? 

He let the shirt fall back onto the carpet as he scanned the photos.Something looked familiar.What? 

He kept staring at them,willing the feeling to come back,but it didn't.He was just an idiot standing here looking at fallen photos of bodies scattered at his feet. 

Bodies scattered at his feet... 

...he was high above,looking down at bodies scattered below... 

"Logan?"Srina said behind him,shattering whatever dim memory was starting to form. 

He didn't bother to look at her,although the sense of rage that overcame was immediate and toxic. "Shh,"he hissed."I almost had something!" 

But what he almost had seemed extremely vague and empty.He had a hint of a feeling,a fragment of a ghost,and it all added up,to steal a British phrase,to bugger all."Shit,"he spat,kicking at a photo that just barely skidded along the carpet. 

"I'm sorry,"she said,although she didn't venture further into the room."What did you think you had?" 

He shook his head,disgusted with her,with himself,with his unreliable piece of shit mind."I thought I remembered looking down at bodies from a height,but that certainly narrows things the fuck down, doesn't it?" 

She finally came out into the living room,tightening the sash on her black silk kimono,an article of clothing that made him inexplicably unnerved.Maybe it made him wonder if Mariko ever wore one of those.He really had no idea,but it seemed like an unfortunate choice of clothing."High place?How high?" 

He looked back at her,still irate but very curious."What?What do you know?" 

Her violet eyes took in the photos strewn all over her floor,and she grimaced at what she saw.He was getting the definite impression she didn't like violence."Nothing really.But once I remember seeing you on top of this building,on the roof.I don't know how you got up there,unless you used those claws of yours to climb it somehow." 

"What building,where?"He asked,surprised and suspicious that she would tell him anything after stalling for so long.He really didn't know if he dared trust her now,but what other choice did he have? 

"It was the abandoned cannery,down near the docks.I doubt the building's still standing,though;it was condemned even then." 

"Can you take me there?"He asked,grabbing up his shirt from the floor. 

She looked surprised,but nodded all the same."Yeah,sure.But whatever was there must be long gone by now." 

I know,"he agreed,pulling the t-shirt on over his head."But I have to see it." 

He did,and he didn't know why.It was doubtful he'd remember anything more,but if he didn't it would haunt him the rest of his days.Just like everything else. 

** 

Somewhere over Canada 

    Jean found herself wishing he'd go back to singing "Oh,What A Beautiful Morning". 

"-you managed to convince yourself,but I don't think you can manage me,"Bob sang chirpily,sounding like a voluntarily caged bird who was absolutely thrilled to have a seed cup and a perch to sit on. 

She looked away,pretending to study the control panels in the co-pilot's seat,but she did smile to herself. He was extremely odd man,and she couldn't say she necessarily trusted him,but she never knew anyone who seemed so happy to just be alive,no matter the circumstances.It was almost infectious. But a glance at the GPS readout brought something to her attention."We're over the Canadian Rockies," she said, interrupting his song. 

He didn't mind.Bob didn't seem to mind much,including men sleeping with his purported girlfriend. "Yeah,but not yet where we wanna be." 

"Where do we want to be?" 

"Changan Junction." 

She paused,waiting to see if there was more,or if she had heard him wrong."Come again?" 

"It's the last sizable town before Alkali Lake.It's at the mouth of the only mountain pass accessible at this time of year.And all but a couple of weeks out of the year,in fact." 

"You've done your homework.I'm impressed." 

"Don't be.It was part of Logan's memories that I was able to recall.The bar there is called The Golden Seal,and he was banned for life for fighting,but the owner reconsidered after he stopped a robbery in progress." 

She stared at him,wondering if he was joking.He engaged the auto-pilot and turned to look at her with a charming,thousand watt smile.Some people perspired;Bob simply exuded charisma."Nah,it's true.Logan smelled the cordite,booze,and desperation on the guys,and figured they were trouble.He was gonna let it go,but as he reached his truck,he heard the shouting,a gunshot and a woman scream,and,as he snarled at the time,"Ah shit".He coulda walked away if he hadn't heard it,but he did,and he felt a certain obligation to go break some skulls,especially since it wouldn't take him more than a minute anyways.Which turned out to be about right." 

She had to admit she was surprised."I didn't think Logan was really the type for that kind of thing.When did this happen?" 

He had to think about it for a moment,and gazed out the windscreen at the cottony sea of clouds scudding just beneath them.The sun had turned their soft peaks golden,and she wasn't sure had ever seen a lovelier sight,even if it was skimming by so fast she could focus on any of it.Finally,Bob said,"It wasn't long after he woke up in the snow,so...fourteen years ago maybe?" 

Right to the very limit of Logan's current crop of memories.But one thing he said she didn't get."Woke up in the snow?" 

"Yeah,after Alkali went ka-blooey."He then gave her a sidelong glance,his unearthly eyes almost sparkling with an emotion she didn't dare interpret."Ah,you didn't know that." 

"He remembers being at the base?" 

"No.He remembers waking up in a snowdrift among the ruins of something.Only in retrospect did he realize it might have been an army compound or something like it,but he also thought it may have been a prison,considering how he felt about everything." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well,in spite of wakin' up at a site of devastation,being buck naked and so fucking cold his dogtags had frozen to his skin-lucky he has that healin' thing,or he'd have been a corpsicle in more ways than one-his first overwhelming urge was to get the fuck out of Dodge,right quick,as they'd be coming for him,and if they blamed this on him things might be ten thousand times worse." 

"They?Who was 'they'?"She thought she was coping remarkably well since her mind kept getting stuck on the concept and possible image of a naked Logan.But the idea that it was so cold his dog tags actually stuck to his skin (well,that meant Logan was immune to frostbite-no real shock there)took the bloom off the rose a bit.Poor man. 

Bob shrugged."He didn't know.It was just a 'they' that evoked an animal sort of panic.Considering what they did to him,I don't blame him." 

She couldn't either."Did he destroy the base?" 

Bob shook his head."He doesn't know.He'll probably never know,considering the jostling his brain got." 

Sometimes having a conversation with Bob was about as fun as punching yourself in the face.""Huh?" 

"Well,he was in the thick of it,wasn't he?"He glanced at her,and she continued to stare at him,waiting for more."Think about it,Jean.Most likely,inside the base,he was wearing clothes-well,I'm guessin'-so the fact that he found himself outside,sometime after the explosion,nude and the only living thing in sight,that would indicate he was probably in the base when it went boom." 

She finally started following his logic (but did he have to keep bringing up Logan nude?)."His clothes were blown or burnt off." 

"Along with his skin,hair,and probably some muscular tissue,although there's no way to confirm that,is there?And his brain probably got a pretty good rattlin' inside that stainless steel cranium of his." 

The idea was horrific and revolting,but she was a doctor.She knew if Logan was indeed inside a building that exploded,the shockwave alone might strip flesh from his bones,even if it was a 'clean' (no fireball) blast."Oh my god,"she gasped,now trying to banish the image of Logan as a living anatomical model of the human circulatory system out of her head."Could even he survive that?" 

Bob grimaced sympathetically."Sadly,yeah,I think he could.I think you could probably pare most of him away and he'd still keep going.I'd like to blame it on will alone-and believe me,that's a lot of it-but he's really just a slave to his biology.His body wants to stay alive,and will,by any means necessary.I really think you'd have to strap two tons of Semtex to his body and blast him to his constituent atoms if you wanted to kill him."He then grinned humorously. "He's like the liquid metal Terminator,ain't he?" 

She scowled at him,not seeing the humor in that."That's not funny." 

"Logan would think so.In a dark humored sort of way."It was then an instrument started bleeping:a location tracker."Aha,"Bob exclaimed,disabling the auto-pilot and taking the controls once more."Comin' up on Clangan Junction.Hope you brought a parka." 

He took the jet into a rather steep dive that pushed her back in her seat,but he seemed to be enjoying flying the plane like it was a predatory bird swooping in for the kill."How could you do it,how could you even try,"Bob sang,even as her ears popped from the sudden elevation shift.The ground was as white as the clouds had been,giving her a brief but curious sense of vertigo."When you were born on the water,and raised up in the sky." 

"We have to shed some speed here or we're going to crash,"she said,shouting inadvertently.Well,her ears were still plugged,and he was singing rather boisterously.Everything about him was boisterous.But she had to admit he had a very nice singing voice,even if the songs he chose to sing were peculiar. 

"Don't worry,the snow will cushion us." 

She stared at him in slack jawed shock,but when he looked at her he grinned roguishly,and she knew he had been kidding."That wasn't funny." 

"Oh,give over,"he teased."That was fuckin' hilarious." 

He brought them in dangerously low over the snowy valleys surrounding the tiny pit stop of a mountain town,towering pines and icy outcroppings finally giving some variation to the white on white landscape as he looped around,shedding speed,and seemed to be trying to settle on a landing spot close to town. "You know the jet's going to stick out,no matter what,"she said,wondering if that had anything to do with his indecision. 

"Oh,no it won't,"he replied in a casual,dismissive manner."I'll throw a cloaking spell on it.Nobody'll see it, even if they walk right into it." 

"You cast spells now." 

"Well,only a couple.I never had the patience for all the arcana,not like Ammy or her mother.The Spellcaster's Union in Melbourne made me an honorary wizard though.I thought that was real nice." 

She still couldn't decide if he was pulling her leg or not."Spellcasters have a union?" 

He nodded,getting a distracted look on his face as he finally decided to land the jet."Of course.If there weren't set rules,people might take advantage of them.You have to set your boundaries.I mean,I think it'd be a good idea if you mutants got around to that someday,at least the ones who don't want to be anonymous or kill people." 

"Now I know you're joking." 

"Nope,I'm serious.'Course,it'll help a lot when ordinary people stop hatin' you." 

She grunted,a combination of a swallowed laugh and a sarcastic snort.Yes,it would help a lot.Of course, what Scott had just done in Maine-well,what they made him do-was just going to cause an upsurge in mutant hatred and fear.And wasn't that the entire point of that otherwise pointless slaughter? 

It felt like there was a cold stone in her stomach,weighing it done,making her almost queasy with fear and anger.She didn't care what Bob said,they had hurt Scott,and they were going to pay for that. 

(Like they had paid for hurting Logan?) 

Bob brought the jet down with surprising delicacy;it seemed to glide softly on the snow before settling to a gentle stop.As he started shutting down systems,he said,"Thank me for flying Me Airlines.If I would check around my seat for any items I may have brought with me,I would appreciate it,and I hope I enjoyed flying Me." 

She couldn't help it-she laughed.She hated to laugh too,because of everything that was going on."Are you ever serious?"She asked,as she undid her seat harness and moved to the back of the jet.There she did have a quilted blue parka waiting for her,tested for complete heat retention down to ten degrees below zero (if she could trust the company selling these expensive coats).Bob's only concession to the temperature was a green cable knit sweater,a leather bomber jacket lined with fleece,and hiking boots as opposed to biker boots.Oh,and mirrored polarized sunglasses,the kind skiers wore on the slopes,which he donned the instant he got out of his seat. 

"Logan wouldn't wear those,"she pointed out,shrugging on her heavy parka and zipping it up. 

"Nobody'll see 'em,"he said with utmost confidence.He then grabbed his jacket and slipped it on quickly, as if he was used to getting dressed in a hurry.She didn't even want to know why that might be. 

She suddenly realized she was missing something,and started patting the large pockets of the coat."What is it?"Bob asked. 

"My gloves.Do you see them?"During his wild flying,they'd probably fallen under one of the seats. 

"You don't need them." 

"What do you mean?Of course I-" 

"No,you don't,"Bob said,in that queerly assured voice of his that sent a chill down her spine."Your hands won't freeze;they'll be warm out there.You'll be fine." 

Her hands did feel warmer now,her formerly cold fingertips almost tingling with heat,and she scowled at him."You did something to me,didn't you?" 

"No.You're keeping your hands warm,not me.I just suggested it."He then gave her a patently forced smile, like he didn't want to discuss it. 

"Don't-"she began,pausing before she could get her tirade started.What did Logan call what Bob did, beyond mindfucking?Oh,yes."-push me,all right?Even if you think it's for my own good." 

He nodded."Alrighty." 

She didn't believe him for a second,but what was she going to do about it?Shit.That was another frustrating thing about Bob:no one could make him do what he didn't want to do.How did you scare a guy who could alter reality with the sound of his voice?If he was any other person,she could make him do it with a telepathic suggestion (not that she would,because that was wrong),but he was adamant about her not trying anything telepathic on him,and went out of his way to avoid physical contact with her.At first she had been skeptical about that-it seemed like a convenient way to avoid telepathy-but the Professor was in so much pain around him,and the closer she got to him,the greater the feeling of psychic pressure,she couldn't help but think it was true.Or as close to true as you could get with him. 

She let him lead the way out because she always felt it best to keep an eye on him,and he didn't even question it,in spite of his tendency towards casual politeness. 

After the warmth of the jet,walking outside was like stepping into a meat locker.She swore she could feel the moisture in her eyes freezing the second the arctic air hit her,even though she knew it wasn't really that cold.It just felt unbearably frigid because she wasn't used to it.They were high up,but not so high that this place didn't thaw in the summer.Too bad it wasn't summer. 

Bob,of course,seemed unaffected.In fact,he was singing again."Martyrs don't do much for me,although I enjoy them vicariously,"he sang quietly,his breath turning into plumes of white clouds in the gelid air.He paused briefly,and made a strange hand gesture at the jet,saying something that sounded somewhat (but not quite) Latin. 

And then the jet disappeared in the blink of an eye. 

Even though she was within an arm's reach of it,it still startled her,made her take a step back and visually search for it. 

Bob went right back to singing,his boots crunching in the snow as he walked up the small hill he chose to hide the jet behind."After you,no after me.No I insist,please after me.Do I want to,with all that charm,do I want to twist my arm?" 

His breath was like a vapor trail she was following in the wake of,and even though the snow was just an inch or two over ankle deep,it wasn't easy going:ice had formed on top of the snow,making it both harder and slicker than normal,and a couple of times she was sure she was going to slip and fall on her ass. Luckily, she managed not to. 

"Oh shit,"Bob said,from the crest of the hill.He had come to a dead stop,waiting for her (or so she had thought),but now he thought she noticed a new and strange tension across his shoulders. 

"What is it?"She asked,as she struggled up to the top. 

"Scott beat us here,"he said,as she broached the crest of the hill. 

Standing beside Bob,she looked down the slope at the tiny valley where Changan Junction was supposed to be nestled.But instead of a collection of utilitarian quonset huts and pseudo-Alpine cabins clustered around well salted roads,there was nothing but ruins. 

Where homes and businesses used to be were large craters in the ground,and some were still smoldering, sending grey smoke wafting up into the cloudy sky.The black ribbon of road looked fractured,a huge chasm bisecting it down the middle,with jagged section of macadam sticking up like pointed teeth.A loose collection of building materials-part of a roof here,a part of a wall there,maybe a fragment of a door -and cars crumpled up like pop cans littered the snowy landscape for miles in all directions. 

She felt sick to her stomach.Why did they do this?Those poor people.When Scott found out what they made him do,he'd never forgive himself. 

She started carefully down the slope,and Bob said warningly,"Jean." 

She looked back at him sternly."We have to see if there are survivors,Bob." 

"I kinda doubt it,"he opined,but started following her down anyways. 

This day continued to get worse and worse.She wondered how many people they were going to make Scott kill before they could stop him. 

    10 

London-Present Day 

    Although she didn't tell him,Logan figured,guessing from all the hearsay he'd heard,this was the East End of London.It looked as grotty and run down as any urban ghetto he had ever seen,and somehow the row houses here looked even more depressing than the ones he had seen last night,which he thought was an impossibility.But forcing the working and non-working poor into borderline substandard and ugly living conditions seemed to be a universal constant,along with stupidity and greed. 

No,he wasn't bitter. 

Finally,they came to a really sad part of town,where warehouses of corrugated tin seemed to take over from dilapidated houses,and the smell of polluted water and dead fish became almost overpowering.He assumed they were near the 'docks',although he had yet to see the water. 

"Well,fuck me sideways,"Srina suddenly exclaimed."It's still there." 

He followed her eyes to a large,crumbling brick building that took up nearly half a block at the end of a rutted road,making it a dead end in a couple of senses of the word.All the tiny windows on the lower levels were covered with plywood and 'This Property Is Condemned-Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted' signs, while the upper level windows,too high up to board,were simply broken to the best of the ability of whatever rock throwers happened to pass by.Judging from the fact that most of the upper windows were still intact,he bet Londoners would never make decent baseball pitchers. 

Srina brought her boxy little Citroen to a stop,pulling it up beside a junked out,stripped car that was missing its hubcaps,wheels,windows,and passenger side door.Her car was so squat and ugly it almost blended in perfectly;urban camouflage. 

(When he asked her why she had never stolen a car,she pointed out London traffic was bad enough without having an invisible car,and besides,she didn't use it that much.And she'd had Ralph-the name of her car-since she'd left school,and as long as he ran,she wasn't going to replace him.She was a weird,weird woman.But it had also occurred to him no one would look for a high priced thief driving a beaten up old Citroen.) 

He was happy to get out of the cramped car (it needed new shock absorbers) and away from the overwhelming cinnamon smell of her air freshener,but the reek of the air outside was even worse:salt and benzene,auto exhaust and decay (both animal and vegetable flesh),abandonment and concrete.He was shaking his head,trying too clear the scent from his nose to no avail,as she got out of the car,making sure to lock the door (why?)."Something wrong?"She asked,looking at him over the roof of Ralph. 

He shook his head,giving up."Place stinks." 

"Yeah,well,the smelter isn't far from here.Maybe I should have warned you." 

"You think?"He snapped.He didn't know why he was taking it out on her,but suddenly he didn't want to be here.Looking at the four story factory,its formerly maroon bricks faded to a sort of washed out orange,looming against the backdrop of the gunmetal grey overcast sky,it looked ominous.A forgotten, abandoned body,left to decay,wither,and die in the sun... 

(Like you.Just like you.) 

...and he had a feeling it should be forgotten.He should be forgotten. 

(Back out now before it's too late.) 

"Oh,come on,don't be a smeghead,"she said,turning towards the derelict cannery."I haven't seen you in a dog's age.Excuse me if I forgot your super power of smelling." 

He scowled at the back of her head since she didn't bother to look at him,and he followed,even though something in his gut was telling him to leave now.He was annoyed that something in him was so eager to turn tail,for no obvious reason at all.It was just a building,for fuck's sake,and an abandoned one at that. 

They walked abreast up the broken street,towards the former cannery,and as its shadow started to cover them,he asked,finally,"How did you see me on the roof?Where were you?" 

She grimaced,and she cast a furtive sidelong glance that just screamed guilty."I kind of followed you.I wanted to see what you were doing." 

"What was I doing?" 

"Hunting someone." 

He was going to say "No kidding",but she had the strangest look on her face.It was sort of blank,but not perfectly expressionless.He didn't know what to make of it,and he had a feeling he should keep any sarcastic comments to himself."Yeah,I got that.But who?Did I meet him here?" 

She shook her head,her fine magenta hair falling out of the loose ponytail she had attempted to gather it in at the nape of her neck."I don't know.I got knocked out." 

That surprised him so much he stopped dead in his tracks."Knocked out?By whom?" 

She looked back at him and shook her head."I got a concussion.I don't remember anything until I woke up in the hospital." 

Was that true?He wasn't sure.He felt there was more to the story than she was saying."Did he try and kill you?"He asked,then added,feeling his stomach twist itself into a knot:"Did I?" 

She paused,and actually attempted a weak smile."If you wanted to kill me,Logan,I doubt I'd be here." 

He wondered if she meant helping him or simply being alive.Probably both. 

The door of the cannery had a lock box on it that looked properly aged,the hasp of the padlocks looking rusted-so why did he smell the sharp tang of epoxy? 

"What is it?"She asked,as he peered closely at the locks. 

"I'm not so sure this place is abandoned.Ever been inside this place?" 

"No." 

"Wanna?" 

She gave him a sly smile,her eyes sparkling with mirth."What about the locks?Oh,that was a stupid question,wasn't it?" 

"Just a bit,yeah."He popped the claws on his right hand and sheered away the locks,although not as easily as he would have thought;there was the slightest bit of resistance before his claws cut through,although it was so miniscule he felt lucky to notice it.And since he was sure that wasn't the end of the locks (just the most visible ones),he slid the tips of his claws in the narrow slit between the door and the frame and heard more metal fall inside the building.Then he shoved the door open,and braced for anything. 

It was sort of anti-climatic to find the interior was a dust reeking warehouse floor,the particles so thick in the anemic slivers of sunlight that they looked like a sluggish swarm of tiny insects.He sneezed-he couldn't help it-but he was aware there was a curious smell in the room that he couldn't reconcile with an abandoned cannery. 

"Well,this is fascinating,"Srina said,stepping inside.She took a good,long look around,and said,"What do you think those are?" 

He looked over to the far left side side of the huge floor,and saw bulky,boxy shaped,covered by what appeared to be weighted down oilskin tarps."I don't know,"he admitted,heading cautiously towards them. 

The upper floors had been ripped out,so all the noises seemed to echo in the cavernous expanse,barely muffled by the thick cement floor (did canneries have cement floors?).He heard a high pitched noise of electricity,heavily dampened,and he wondered if they had triggered a silent alarm,or it was just whatever was hidden under the tarps.And for all the dust swirling in the air,there was very little on the floor or the tarps:someone had been here recently.He could even smell a tinge of humanity among the fluorocarbons in the stale,muggy air. 

"Why would anyone have anything stored in this crumbling death trap?"She asked,as they reached the first crate.Logan knew now that it was thrumming with electricity;he could hear it,smell it,even feel it as he reached for the tarp. 

He ripped it aside,throwing the tarp to the floor,and they both did a slight double take. 

Logan hadn't been expecting anything,yet the metal framed container-approximately the size and shape of a chromed up coffin-was still stunning."What the hell is this?"Srina exclaimed,reaching out to touch it before she thought better of it."A cryogenic chamber?" 

"It looks like it,doesn't it?"He looked for a window,a control panel,but he didn't see either. 

"Do you think someone's in it?" 

"It's running."Not really an answer,but an incredible simulation of one. 


	8. Part 8

"Why would someone put it in an abandoned cannery?" 

"Are you sure this really was a cannery,sweetheart?" 

She shrugged a single shoulder."Not anymore I'm not." 

He was moving on to the next closest tarp when he heard the hum.He could feel the minute tremor through the ground too,and smell the scent of fresh exhaust,and hear the well oiled doors swing open smoothly.They had indeed set off a silent alarm. 

Srina grabbed his arm,and tensely whispered,"Is that what I think it is?" 

He simply nodded.What else could he do? 

They were surrounded. 

** 

    When the puffy,thick waisted middle aged man opened the door,Control quickly checked the address on the back of the business card for the fourth time that hour. 

"Can I help you?"The man said,sounding surly and bored.His eyes,so pale blue they were almost clear, gazed at him sourly over the still intact security chain. 

"Are you,uh,Herb Michaelmas?"Control asked,feeling more insecure than he had in years.He silently vowed to have the informant killed. 

"Yeah,who wants to know?"He snapped,his impatient voice betraying a slight Midwestern accent. 

"I'm a friend of Radnat,"he said,knowing full well that this guy,whoever the hell he was,was not the guy he was actually looking for.Radnat was probably pissing himself with laughter right now. 

But to his surprise,the sparsely haired man-who could have been a distant cousin Brian Dennehy-snorted disdainfully."Radnat don't have any friends,just guys who write him checks." 

Control stared at the man in disbelief."You really are Herb Michaelmas?" 

"Didn't I just say?" 

Control glanced around the narrow,badly lit hallway of the run down apartment building,and leaned in to whisper,"Former Hell God Herb Michaelmas?" 

Herb the Hell God rolled his eyes,as if Control was an idiot keeping him from a very important meeting. "What,is there another one I don't know about?Look,I don't know what Radnat told you,but I don't do nothin' no more.I'm out,it's over.Sorry if you got ripped off-" 

He started to close the door,but Control reacted quickly,jamming his foot in the tiny gap of the door like a stereotypical encyclopedia salesman of old."No,please,I don't want anything from you.I'm just looking for an explanation." 

That made him pause,curious but wary.One bushy ash blond eyebrow quirked up,and he seemed to examine him like a very interesting item he had found in his own stool."What do you mean an explanation? For what?" 

"I was hoping you could tell me what the fuck a 'Drai'shajan' was."Of course,that was only part of what he wanted from him,but it was the part he hoped would get him in the door. 

"Why d'ya want to know that?" 

"Because I think it might be coming after my...company." 

He scoffed."Then you're royally fucked." 

"Why?Could you at least explain to me why?" 

Herb sighed like a martyr,once again rolling his eyes,but he said,"Move yer foot." 

Control did,and Herb shut the door,just long enough to undo the chain.He then swung it open wide,and walked back into his apartment."Move it,I ain't got all day,"he said,retreating with a beer in his hand. 

Control came inside and closed the door,but instantly wished he hadn't. 

Former Hellgod or not,he had a sad little apartment,sporting the same water stained,rose patterned wallpaper as the hallway,the same overall beige on whore lipstick red color scheme, and the same sort of naked light fixtures that made everything look unflattering.Not that it had to travel far with Herb's place.  
The decor was pure thrift store,and the air was permeated with the scent of old pizza and unwashed socks that was pretty much the aroma of every bachelor apartment everywhere. 

Herb,who was wearing only a stained white undershirt,red and green plaid boxer shorts,and black socks, sat in a sagging brown recliner a few feet from a small t.v. blaring the Ricki Lake Show.Herb's only concession to company was to turn it down a little.Control thought about sitting on the lumpy blue sofa in the corner,but then thought better of it,choosing to remain standing instead. 

"So what do ya wanna know exactly?"Herb said,asking him but looking at the idiot yahoos screaming at each other on the screen instead. 

"What is he?" 

"A Drai'shajan?Trouble." 

Control scowled at his moth eaten recliner."Be more specific." 

"You tell me,suit boy-what d'ya know about it?" 

Control crossed his arms over his chest,less than impressed with Herb.No wonder he got fired."I was told he's some sort of divine/demon hybrid,that the Powers That Be merged him with something else." 

Herb shook his head."That's the Human plane story." 

"Not the real one?" 

He continued shaking his head."Close,but otherwise completely wrong." 

"How so?" 

Herb finally glanced at him,but not for long;clearly the show was more interesting."Well,you didn't hear it from me,okay?The PTB's worked hard to cover it up." 

"I don't even know what the freaking 'PTB's ' are!" 

"Consider yourself lucky."He took a stiff drink of his beer before continuing."The PTB's are pricks, seriously.The only difference between them and the Hell gods is they have better p.r." 

"So I've heard."He wondered if there was any way to speed him up. 

Herb shifted in his corduroy covered recliner,and after a minute-where the word "Ho!" was shouted from the t.v. screen,and made Control grimace with suppressed laughter (ah,white trash were so funny)-the ex-Hell God said,"The thing about the PTB's is they love order,makes 'em cream in their sashes.Order is perfection,blah blah blah,and they're perfect.Which is,of course,bullshit;they ain't perfect.But they arrange it so it seems like they are.See,the key to perfect order is homogeny:everyone acts the same, thinks the same,has the same goals.This is certainly true of most PTB's,who have all the originality of a postage stamp,but every now and then they have what they call a 'throwback'-one who is grossly imperfect.One who,say,has a personality,or a sense of humor,or a brain in their massively oversized cosmic head.They quickly rid themselves of these,and pretend they never existed,because to acknowledge them would be to acknowledge a frailty,which they don't have." 

"And this relates to the Drai'shajan how?" 

"He's the imperfect one.Supposedly,he not only had a personality,but he was a troublemaker.He was influential enough among some pockets of the PTB's that he was really pissing off the higher caste of them.Supposedly this guy,whoever he was,didn't share the same disdain for all the lower beings-which is everything that isn't a PTB-and in fact sort of liked them,and didn't understand why the PTB's treated them with either indifference or veiled hostility.Well,the PTB's don't tolerate dissent or unrest in their perfect order,so the higher caste got together and banished the dissident." 

"How?By throwing him down here?" 

"Yeah,more or less.Except they wanted to make sure he was really punished,so they made him a Belial demon,so not only would he be a bottom feeder among demons,but no one would ever believe a damn thing he said either.Like Cassandra." 

"Who's she?" 

Herb shot him an acrid look."Chick in Greek myth?Given the gift of prophesy,but since she pissed off a god,they made sure no one would ever believe her?" 

"Oh,so not a real person then." 

He shrugged,turning his gaze back to the hair pulling slap fight on the screen."I dunno.Not my department." 

"So they made this imperfect one a Belial demon?" 

"Well,yes and no.See,it's kinda complicated.Basically,they imprisoned his energy-PTB's are rarely corporeal,'cause bodies are messy and unorderly-in the form of a Belial,and they fucked with everyone's recollection,so this Belial couple really thought he was their son,and he thought so too.Because they denied he ever existed,he could have no memories of what he actually was or used to be.But he's not really a true Belial,just a formulated one." 

Control shook his head."What's the difference?" 

Herb snorted again.He was starting to hate that."You must've never met a real Belial.You'd know the difference,believe me.The most major thing is age." 

"Age?" 

"Yeah.See,Belials basically have no power at all,except to lie really well.They get better with age,their psychic power accumulates,but at the same time their brain declines:it's like a built in failsafe.'Cause, believe you me,you don't want a Belial havin' awesome psychic powers.They're selfish and greedy bastards." 

"As opposed to the rest of demonkind." 

Herb gave him a sarcastic smirk."Ha fucking ha.Anyways,since the Drai'shajan isn't a real Belial,he didn't have the age related decline.He just got stronger.And then he found out what he used to be,and didn't that add up to a shitload of trouble!" 

"How'd he find out?" 

He shook his head and had a sip of his beer before responding."A shaman or a witch doctor-what do you call 'em when they're Aborigines?-anyways,he did this ceremony,and they both figured out that he used to be a PTB,but got exiled and imprisoned here.He wasn't terribly happy with that knowledge.I think the shaman kicked off under mysterious circumstances-Humans weren't supposed to know about the PTB's failures-but they left the fake Belial alone,because what the hell could he do about his fleshy confinement?Besides,he was a Belial-who'd believe his bullshit story about being a fallen PTB?But knowledge is power,or whatever the fuck;he found ways to open up the hidden,lingering bits of PTBness in him,and got mucho powerful,on top of his growing Belial powers.He got Godlike powerful." 

"Isn't he?"Control asked."A God?"Then he realized what Herb had said about him being fallen and exiled, and he realized,with a slight gasp,"Fuck.Is he Satan?" 

Herb looked around."Who?Where?" 

"The whatshisface.You know,Lucifer was kicked out of heaven for arguing with God-or a god,at any rate." 

"Is that from the Bible?Shit,don't believe that-the Belials wrote that to see if they could make Humans worship it.But don't tell the vampires,'cause then it'll stop working on them.And no,the Drai'shajan isn't Satan.That thing doesn't exist."He snorted derisively."Like there'd be just one Hellgod." 

"But he's a god,is that what you're telling me?" 

"He's an exiled god." 

"What's the difference?" 

"He doesn't have all his powers,just some." 

"Can he be beaten?" 

Again with that annoying piggish snort."Not by anything on a mortal plane,no." 

"What if you bring the PTB's into it?" 

"Then you'd be deader than disco.No Human can know of their imperfection.And,there's a rumor they're kinda afraid of him now." 

"Why?He can't possibly be more powerful than them." 

"Not more powerful,no,but powerful in a different way.And he's amassing allies.The rumor I heard,back in the Hell dimension,was that they were afraid one day he'd come back and overthrow them all.And if anyone could overthrow the PTB's,it would be one of their own." 

"Why would he do that?Revenge?" 

"See,that was my guess,but Beelzebub told me he heard from a former renegade PTB that the Drai'shajan still believed the same thing he did to get him exiled:that the PTB's do more harm than good sporadically playing around with the creatures on this plane.He wants to cut them off for good." 

"Wouldn't the Hellgods help?" 

That made Herb chuckle."Fuck no!If he can cut the PTB's off,he could cut them off.They hate his fucking guts too." 

"So why don't they-" 

"Scared of him too,"Herb interrupted,anticipating his question. 

Control shook his head.This sounded like a fairy story."I still don't understand why the PTB's don't shut him down if they're scared of him." 

Herb shifted uncomfortably in his chair,like his butt had just fallen asleep,then said,grudgingly,"Before I got kicked out,I heard the PTB's tried.And they failed." 

"How could they fail?" 

"It seems he anticipated the move,and countered with a little help from his friends:Ganesha,Loki,Shiva, and Nyx." 

"They exist?"He replied,wondering if he was playing a joke on him."And they're not PTB's?" 

"Hell no.They're extra-dimensional things with powers that could be interpreted as godlike,under the right circumstances,and beyond the purview of the PTB's.And teamed up with the Drai'shajan the PTB's found themselves at a loss.'Course,they were probably stunned-they ain't used to being disobeyed and thwarted.Usually,when they say frog, everything jumps." 

"But not them." 

He nodded."Not them,and especially not the Drai'shajan.He remains,to them,as frustrating as ever." 

"So why don't his enemies group together and get rid of him?" 

"Well,the PTB's don't 'group' with lower beings.And the rest of the Drai's enemies pretty much hate each other too." 

"So you're telling me I can't fight this guy." 

Herb nodded."Can you fight the PTB's?No.So you can't fight him either.And believe me,you don't want Shiva on your ass." 

Control threw his hands up in frustration."What about you?You were a Hell God-" 

That really made him laugh.Once he calmed down,he said,"The operative word is 'were'.Unlike the Drai,I ain't a simulacrum:I was stripped of my powers and placed in the body of a laid off insurance salesman from Akron,Ohio."He pig snorted derisively."And I got fired for no good reason at all.It's politics;it's all politics." 

"But you must have friends-" 

"Very few who are demons,and none of them are powerful or crazy enough to take on the Drai'shajan.All I can tell you man is walk on,while you still can." 

Control scowled at the man's jowly profile,wanting quite badly to pistol whip him until his head resembled a pumpkin a week after Halloween:caved in and nothing so much as rotting mush."So you won't help me anymore." 

Herb looked at him and gave him an honest,toothy grin."I haven't helped you at all,you stupid motherfucker.If the PTB's learn that you know their dirty little secret,you are deader than Demi Moore's movie career.You are toast,and you will never see it coming.It'd be kinder if the Drai caught up with you first.From what I understand,he has developed a certain affection for the mortal creatures of this realm, and he doesn't like to kill if he doesn't have to.But,if you ever remembered meeting him,you might wish he had killed you." 

"Is that some kind of threat?" 

Herb shook his head,and looked back at the screen."I ain't the one you should be worried about."He then gulped down the rest of his beer,crushing the empty Budweiser can as he set it on the armrest,and without looking away from the flashing lights of the t.v. screen,he said,"Will you kill me already?" 

Control was honestly taken aback,and not completely sure he had heard him right."What?" 

"Kill me,dickwad.I know you're government;I was the patron demon of bureaucracy until Azrael put his worthless son-in-law in the job.I can smell you fucks a mile off.You used to be mine."He let the crushed can fall to the tattered red carpet,and stared at the screen with what seemed to be melancholy."I don't know how you people live like this.I miss Hell." 

Control honestly felt sorry for the demon as he pulled out his gun and fired,a single bullet tearing through his left temple and exiting through the right side,taking most of that side's skull and brain matter right along with it. 

But Herb had helped him more than he would ever realize.If he couldn't fight the Drai'shajan,maybe he could offer him a bargaining chip,something he wanted.Or,more correctly,something he didn't realize he wanted yet. 

If you were going to storm heaven,you needed more than good intentions. 

** 

Changan Junction,Alberta,Canada 

    Just like he thought,Scott's handlers had done a good job of wiping out every single living thing in the town.Bob had even found several dead sled dogs,or,at least in most cases,parts of them. 

Where the snow wasn't black with soot,it was red with blood. 

Jean was using her telepathy to try and find people still alive beneath the wreckage,giving herself a headache from over-exertion,and even though she had asked him not to,he pushed her a bit,just to relieve the pain and strain. 

Scott had hit this town like a nuclear bomb;this place wasn't attacked more than it was obliterated.It was a message to Logan too:Had some memories here?Had a past?No more you don't.Bob didn't really know these people,but he loved them-completely black hearted,stone cold bastards who though of Logan as a recalcitrant pup who just needed to accept his place as their property and puppet.Then everything would be hunky dory all right with the world again. 

Shitheads.Complete and utter wankers.He couldn't wait to meet them. 

He got down on his hands and knees,and crawled under the smoldering wreckage of what was probably once The Golden Seal.If he was normal he'd have to worry about being burned and suffocated,but he wasn't,so he didn't. 

He could smell the charred flesh and the blood beneath the smoldering timbers,the embers providing only the dimmest illumination inside what was basically a crawlspace made up by partially collapsed rafters and part of the tin plated roof. 

He didn't have far to crawl before he put his hand in a puddle of blood and pulped tissue,all formerly belonging to a man who was still alive. 

It was far from a miracle,though;he was alive only in the most generous sense of the term.All but one limb had been sheered off,and something-either a head wound or a piece of flying shrapnel-had completely taken out higher brain function.All he could sense was the dim hum of the brainstem,something so primitive even Jean's slightly bolstered telepathy wasn't picking it up.And he was glad,because he would have had to run interference if she had picked him up.He didn't think she'd like what he was about to do. 

There was no help for this man.He supposed maybe,if he was very careful,he could keep him alive (again, in the most generous sense of the term) for a while,but not long enough enough to get him to a hospital, and doctor or not,there was little Jean could do for him either.He was already dead,it was just that the reptile part of his brain had yet to accept it. 

In the orange dimness,he could see one of his eyes had been pulped,and was little more than a jelly smear on the side of his face,adjacent to the empty hole.The other eye was wide open,and looked like nothing more than a boiled egg.Bob put his hand over the eyes,and said (even though the man was beyond hearing),"Let go." 

The brainstem,the reptile brain that had refused to throw in the towel,finally did.Sometimes the only thing you could offer people was a swift and painless death. 

He started crawling out backwards (always a harder prospect than you imagined),and heard near the opening:"Did you find someone?" 

"Not alive.You?" 

"No,"she sighed,although Bob already knew.But one had to keep the pretense of conversation up. 

Bob crawled out,and Jean offered him a hand up before remembering she couldn't touch him,and then she just looked slightly appalled."Are you all right?" 

He gleaned from her mind that he had soot on his face,blood on his clothes,and some burned skin just about everywhere."Don't worry-I heal fast,"he assured her.Not as fast as Logan,of course,but who healed as fast as him?He had the land speed record. 

Bob wiped his bloody hands on the thighs of his jeans (well,these pants were toast anyways),and said,"I guess we should book." 

She glanced around at the devastation,a pained look on her face,unconsciously rubbing her hands along her arms as if cold.But she wasn't,not really;physical pain and temperature had nothing to do with how she was feeling.She felt sick,for all the people killed,and for Scott:she knew he'd be devastated when he found out what they had made him do.Unlike Logan,who could probably handle the shock. 

Bob pretended to cough to cover up a laugh.Not that her train of thought was all that funny...well,in a way,yes.One of the things she liked about Scott was how gentle a soul he was;he may have had the powers of a laser cannon,but otherwise he was a quiet,almost nebbishy sort who could have one day ended up an accountant and happily so,if not for his peculiarly destructive mutation.It was good that Scott was that way with his power,though-all around them was the result of what would have happened if he had been at all different. 

When it came down to it,she honestly thought Logan was probably the stronger one.Not physically, because she knew that already-Scott had the strength of a normal man;Logan's mutation gave him muscle tissue nearly three times as dense as a normal Humans,so even before they put the adamantium in him,he was stronger than two men put together-no,she meant in more intangible ways.Scott had been her rock, her psychic anchor,for a long time now,and she appreciated his stability,but that was where she feared his weakness was:he was steady,and not acclimated to the big,ugly shocks.Logan had seemingly had a life made up of nothing but big ugly shocks;and while he was,in her opinion,over emotional and emotionally fragile (in a curious sort of way),she felt he was the stronger of the two.In spite of the screaming night terrors,the post traumatic stress disorder,he kept going forward:in spite of all his bluster,he had never completely given up on people,not really.He was the beast with the noble heart. 

And that's what Bob found so fucking funny.Sure,she lusted after him,admired his strength,but when it came down to it-just like the Organization-she thought he was just a step above an animal.He would not only survive because he was more resilient but because violence was his nature.What a stereotype!And she had no idea she was buying into it.Every creature was capable of some violence,so it was inherent to all their natures;the thing was,who acted on it and why?Logan seemed more violent than most for one very good reason:he had had to be. 

He was so old.He didn't know how old Logan was,but over one hundred certainly.When people threw around the term 'old souls' he cringed,because it was so much crap,but with Logan it seemed to be a genuine fact.He had been alive when mutants were extremely rare,and even if he couldn't consciously remember it,unconsciously living through the bad old days must have stuck with him,as did the defense mechanism that told him he had to be ready to fight for his life at any given second.It was siege mentality;when you lived through an endless war,the posture became second nature.So violence was a learned response on his part:it kept people at bay,and kept him alive.It was not 'inborn' because he was an animal,but because it was a response that had never failed to serve him well. 

But,was he going to explain that to her?He'd never even broken the news of Logan's age to Logan,figuring he would not believe it and had no desire to hear it.Bob had hinted he was old,but Logan had always shied away from the bait-he did not want to know.Fair enough.And he wasn't going to be dropping the news to Jean,although he knew she suspected he was much older than he seemed. 

"Scott will be fine,"he told her.She snapped her head around to stare at him,sure he had eavesdropped on her thoughts.Well,yes.It wasn't like he could help it. 

"How can you say that?"She asked,with a surge of anger.Not really aimed at him,but he was the only other person here."Who could be fine after doing all of this?" 

"He didn't do all of this.It only counts if you do it of your own free will." 

"That's easy for you to say,"she said,her voice raising slightly as panic started to take hold.Not panic for herself but for Scott.She was already moving to protect him emotionally,and as much as she feared for him,he didn't think Scott needed it."Not all of us have the comfort of our own know it all superiority-" 

"Ooh ouch,darlin',"he replied,although he couldn't keep the grin off his face.That was meant to wound, but it didn't.He didn't feel superior to anyone.Different?Yes.As for the know it all thing,well...he didn't know everything.He didn't know the gross national product of Paraguay,for example,or how anyone could stand to eat haggis,and those were just two examples. 

Only then did he realize something he supposed Logan should have caught right away.Was there an electric hum somewhere?He thought perhaps it was a still miraculously functioning generator,but that was impossible among all this pulverized wreckage. 

"-can see this dispassionately,"Jean continued,growing ever more worked up and angry."But not ev-" 

"Shh,"he hissed,listening carefully.He may have accidentally pushed her,because she shut right up.He glanced around and eased up,and she found her voice again,although she was back in wary mode. 

"What is it?"She whispered. 

His eyes suddenly found,under a tumult of wreckage,what looked to be tanks of diesel from what had once been a fuel depot.They hadn't gone up?My,that was odd. 

No it wasn't. 

"I think we've been booby trapped,"he told her,seconds before the tanks finally ignited. 

Before the shockwave of fire could wash over them,she held up her hands and he knew what she was going to do,so he decided to reinforce her."This is a cinch,"he said,aware she was afraid she couldn't do this. 

She covered them with a sort of telekinetic force 'bubble',so the firestorm raged around them but left them untouched,the fire skidding along the edge of the invisible forcefield as if it didn't even want to burn them."Nice job,"he told her,as the fire seemed to dissipate.Some of the wreckage that could catch fire did,and shrapnel fell from the sky like the hardest rain imaginable,but it got nowhere near them. 

"Thanks,"she said,a slight tremor in her voice.She had never used her powers like this outside of a sim,and she was worried she couldn't do it.At least not without losing control.She was a very powerful telekinetic,but she reined in her powers strictly,like she reined in her emotions-was that it? 

Oh yes indeedy,it was. 

"Is that why you hold back?"He asked."You once got upset and accidentally hurt someone with your powers?"Although he said it like a question,it wasn't really;he was just curious to see if she would confirm it. 

Her hazel eyes grew wide in fear,and she said,"No."('He knows,'she thought in pure panic.'How can he know?')"Don't psychoanalyze me." 

She was terrified;this was not something she wanted to talk about.And that was fine with him,as he already knew,and it explained a lot about Jean.She loved Scott because he represented the emotional control she wished she had;she loved Logan because he represented the emotional freedom she wished she could have.That had to be tough,to always be just a little bit afraid of yourself."Sorry.It's a hobby." 

As the the white noise of the explosion faded from their ears,he told her,"I bet they have some way to monitor us." 

She dropped the telekinetic field with a small sigh."Why?" 

He shrugged."In case we caught on and survived,I suppose.Sound like Logan."He wouldn't have to have said that if they were monitoring visually,but he wasn't sure of that.Sadly,his senses weren't Logan advanced enough for him to tell.He then raised his voice slightly,and shouted angrily,"Hey,you stupid fucks,you gotta do better than that.You want me?Why don't you come and get me!End of audible recording." 

Jean was giving him a startled look,probably because,up until that point,she had simply heard and seen him as himself."It's creepy how you do that." 

"Isn't it?" 

"Dare I ask why you invited them to come and get you?" 

'Well,they're going to anyways,since this little trap failed.I figure we could go to the nearest town-I think that's a place called Whistler's Point-and wait for them to besiege and otherwise harass us." 

"What if they send Scott to destroy the town?" 

"I hope they do.As soon as I see him,he's mine.Or,I should say,he'll be himself again.And,as even tempered as he is,I'll bet he'll be pretty pissed off at them." 

She nodded,still painfully concerned for Scott.And angry;very angry. 

As they headed back,through the smoldering wreckage of the former town,he wondered if she'd be willing to use that anger against the Organization,restraint be damned.Maybe if he gave her just a little help. 

    11 

London,England 

    Logan popped his claws,and asked her quietly,"Do you know how to fight?" 

Srina grabbed his arm,and when he looked at her,he saw her eyes had gone black."Why fight when you can learn something?Be quiet and don't move."She pulled him back against the far wall,and as much as it ate at him not to fight,he remained still as the first soldiers came through the door,weapons first. 

Staying part of the wall seemed like a good idea now-were they wearing adamantium body armor?It looked more streamlined than the stuff he and Naomi had encountered on their way to Grand Cache,but it had much the same smell,and gleamed black like a carapace of some exotic insect. 

Two men,their faces hidden behind bulbous black helmets,did a standard sweep of the room as more similarly attired soldiers poured in,swarming like angry ants.They even looked up at the high ceiling,rifles aimed skyward.Yep,they were prepared for mutants. 

There were maybe two dozen of them all together,overkill (or it would seem),and then what he assumed was the superior officer came in.The soldiers fanned out in what appeared to be a standard perimeter pattern-including four right in front of them-two facing them,two facing away (and he knew he could take them out before they blinked,but then there'd be the other eight,who'd know where he was...)-and the superior officer waited until he was in the middle of the room before flipping open the faceplate of his helmet,revealing that he was actually a she:a stern faced woman with a barely visible fringe of reddish brown hair at the top of her brow."Report,"she said crisply. 

The senior most soldier,on the opposite side of the room,flipped up his visor,and said,"Sir,the premises appear to have been vacated.The intruders may have realized they tripped a silent alarm." 

"Probably squatters,"one of the soldiers murmured to another. 

But the Commander walked back towards the door,and crouched down to pick something off the cement floor.When she stood up,she said,"Squatters with the ability to cleanly slice through adamantium plated steel?"She was holding up a piece of the lock he had cut. 

Damn it,he knew it wasn't normal metal. 

Another soldier picked up the fallen tarp."They were in here long enough to move the cover,"she noted. Another she.Impossible to tell with that shapeless body armor,but if she got close enough he could probably smell the difference,in spite of the overwhelming adamantium smell of the suits. 

Another soldier examined the cryogenic coffin,and reported,"The containment chamber doesn't appear to have been disturbed." 

Containment chamber? 

"Well,I should hope not,"the Commander replied,then said,"Protocol Delta seven.Whoever was here could not have gone far.Move out." 

The soldiers started to stream out into what must have been a standard military pattern,but Logan had noted something interesting.Everyone who had spoken had been British-except the last man,who had a flat American accent (his best guess was he was from Arizona or Utah).Since when were Americans in the British military? 

This wasn't the British military.A military type thing,yes,but not one restricted by borders.After all,the Organization was only interested in using mutants as weapons,especially as weapons to take out fellow mutants... 

Oh god. 

Logan thought he knew suddenly why they wanted him back so bad,and why they had wanted him here fifteen years ago.And possibly why Srina was keeping mum. 


	9. Part 9

He wasn't only an expensive investment to the Org with all his adamantium,but he was one of their best mutant killing weapons. Hadn't the sim back at Xavier's mansion proved that?He was good at fighting,yes, but he was great at killing fellow mutants.And fifteen years ago,he had been here to kill a fellow mutant, one who was brutally killing off members of the Org;an ally he should have been helping,not hunting.But he'd done his job,and he'd probably killed them just as brutally,because that was what he was supposed to do. 

Out of the corner of his eye,he noticed Srina's lips moving,although she did not say a word.He thought he saw her silently mouth:"Containment chamber".Her black eyes seemed incapable of great expression,but he could smell the sharp tang of fear oozing through her pores.She knew what was in that cryo-chamber,or at least thought she did,and didn't like it. 

When the soldiers filed out,he noticed they were carrying infrared scanners,and he wondered how they weren't picked out on those.She could only block people,not machines.But it was people who read the instruments,and she probably got them that way.If she hadn't found a way to work that angle,she'd have been caught on security cameras a long time ago. 

He waited until he heard the footsteps of the soldiers recede a safe distance,then whispered,"What's in that chamber,Sri?" 

"I-I don't know,"she stammered,keeping her voice to a whisper. 

"Bullshit.You're terrified-I can smell it.What do you think is in there?" 

She shook her head,and he grabbed her arm."Is it a mutant?The mutant I was sent here to kill?" 

Srina looked at them,and the shock was on her face if not in her ebony eyes."You remember?" 

"In a manner of speakin',yeah.So are you gonna start tellin' me what went on back then,and why the thought of that thing scares you so much?And why the hell the Organization would keep preserved something they sent me in to kill?" 

To his subconscious mind,it had smelled like a demon,but hell,hadn't Sabertooth kind of too?And he wasn't a demon,just a Bigfoot looking motherfucker with bad hygiene and a double digit I.Q. 

For a moment,her jaw went slack,and she shook her head.He didn't think she was going to tell her.But finally she whispered, "Let's get out of here,and...then maybe we can talk.I need a drink." 

She wasn't the only one. 

** 

Whistler's Point,Alberta,Canada 

    "-kill all the goddamn freaks before they kill us!"The heavyset man in the red Fram gimme cap shouted from the t.v. set above the bar."Just round up all the muties and shoot 'em!It's us or them-" 

Jean put her head in her hands,barely listening as the news reporter droned on about nationwide reaction to the 'terrorist attack' in Maine.She didn't think she had ever felt this ill in her life,except for that time in med school when she got a bad case of food poisoning from that seafood restaurant.At least then the illness had run its course,and she had felt marginally better once she had stopped vomiting her guts out.There was no purging this sickness. 

"Fuck yeah!Amen brother!"An older man at the end of the bar shouted to more inflammatory,"kill them all" rhetoric coming from the television. 

"Can we go now?"She muttered to Bob,who was sitting on the barstool next to her. 

He looked like Logan to her-he felt it was best she see him that way so she didn't accidentally call him the wrong name (was that possible?)-and frankly she found it troublesome and eerie.The last time she was truly alone with Logan he had kissed her,and she didn't exactly stop him immediately,had she?To his credit,he hadn't tried it again,but sometimes she caught him looking at her in a way that gave her goosebumps.Partially out of fear. 

But,honestly,mostly not. 

Man,what was her problem?It's not like she was some overly hormonal teenager.She was a grown woman,a Doctor for Christ's sake,a teacher,and engaged to be married.She was too old and mature for this shit.And Scott loved her;she had no doubt about that. 

But Logan claimed to love her too,and he certainly believed he was being sincere.Yet since when had love ever felt that.... incendiary? 

Bob was even smoking a cigar and nursing a beer,just like Logan probably would.But very much unlike Logan,he was singing under his breath,so low that only she could hear him."-I'd rather be with an animal-" 

She wondered if that was a comment on the bloodthirsty people on the screen. 

"B-Logan?"She prompted.Okay,she almost did slip,but the negativity in this smoky bar was starting to get to her.She could feel the potential for mob violence building in the room like a bad odor.If they knew she was a mutant they would kill her;she had no doubt about that. 

He tapped an ash into the ashtray,and said,"What,darlin',don't you like the local color?Reddest necks in Alberta." 

How dare he try and make her laugh under these circumstances.Still,she was unable to keep a smile from her face.If he was the all powerful mind reader he seemed to be,he would know what these men (it was mostly men-there were three hard looking women customers and the bartender,but that was it so far) were thinking.She could too,if she opened her mind,but holy shit she had never wanted to read anyone's mind less in her life.She bet an acid bath wouldn't be enough to get her clean after that. 

"I'm tired,"she said,only partially lying."I'd like to go back to the hotel." 

He nodded,and wedging the cigar firmly in the corner of his mouth,reached into the pocket of his leather jacket for his wallet. "Fine.My beer's warm anyways." 

He put his hand on the scratched mahogany bar as the sour faced bartender came past,and said,"Paid in full."The thing was,he had left no money at all.He did pull out a five dollar bill and hand it to her,but said,"The real tip is you need to find another place to work." 

There was no sign she had heard him at all,but she did take the money. 

As he got up to leave,she hissed,"You can't cheat-" 

"If you knew what she was thinking,you'd have no problem with me stiffing her on the check,"he whispered in reply,jerking his head towards the door. 

She still didn't think that was a good reason to skip out on a bar tab...but what the hell had she been thinking?Considering the fact that she had never seen Bob use his powers like that before,it had to be bad.Still,did she know for sure that he didn't use them that way all the time? 

As soon as they were out the door and back out in the drizzling rain,which felt as cold as ice,he whispered,"Motherlode.There was a guy in the back who was jumping on his cell to report that we were here." 

"What?"Out of reflex,she looked back at the bar,but no one was following them...well,at least as far as she could tell.She wondered if Bob was as good as Logan at knowing when they were being stalked.Was anyone else that good?That was paranoia raised to an art form. 

The sidewalk of this little skiing and tourist dependent hamlet was bare of both snow and people;the ski season was over,and here at the lower elevations the snow flurries were sleet at best.The buildings that lined either side of the grim grey street looked grimy and sad,and she thought she could see how drinking was probably the only thing to do  around here. 

The hotel was at the end of the block,a squat building of a lower class chain,for budget travelers.The rooms were cramped and had fabulous views of the scenic parking lot,but they were clean,and if you worked at it,you could almost pretend you were somewhere else. 

She shrugged deeper into her jacket,not yet willing to commit to putting up her hood,and Bob went back to singing under his breath.A very un-Logan thing to do,yes,but no one else was around right now,and he was keeping it quiet."What would an angel say the devil wants to know?All I need is a good defense,"Bob muttered,and because he was still keeping up his guise,he sounded more like Logan than himself.But it was funny to think Logan could sing if he wanted to;she doubted he'd ever want to. "Because I'm feeling like a criminal.And I need to be redeemed to the one-oh fuck!"He suddenly shouted,stopping dead in his tracks. 

She instantly held up her hands,ready to use her powers,but looking around she didn't see anyone."What?What is it?" 

"Someone just tried to telepathically scan me." 

"Did they get something?" 

Bob snorted derisively."No.I think they just killed themselves." 

Somehow she didn't think he was kidding.But before she could ask if he was,she heard a strange noise,and looked up to see the first of the large black helicopters as they came swooping in from the mountains. 

Oh dear.But she had insisted on coming along,hadn't she? 

** 

    They had been waiting patiently outside the perimeter of the one horse mountain town,figuring Logan would pass through on his way to or from Changan Junction.Or at least what was left of it. 

Harris knew the booby trap had been triggered,but also knew the fucker was fine.Wasn't he always?And he had a friend with him (of course),a female friend (of course),probably a mutant too.What the hell was it with that freak?He had all the personality of a psychotic Teamster with PMS,and looked like some mid-stage transformation of the Wolf Man,and yet he constantly pulled all these hot chicks.Was that some kind of freakish mutant power that no one had been able to quantify?It made no sense at all. 

And this one wasn't bad at all.But he always did have a thing for redheads. 

He got the call from the plant in town,and he looked through his binoculars,down at the town,until he saw them walking down the street,away from the bar.Yep-same old moth eaten Wolverine,with a hottie at his side.Mutant or not,he wouldn't mind a piece of that. 

"Trigger the device,"he ordered,focusing on the woman more than Logan.Well,she was nicer to look at than him,although the parka she was wearing made her kind of shapeless.Still,nice legs. 

"Device triggered,"Delaney reported,from the back of the 'snow camoflauged' truck. 

Harris shifted his gaze through the high powered binoculars to Logan.He didn't even break his stride."No change.Shit." 

"Maybe we're not in range,"Delaney suggested. 

"Or maybe the piece of shit thing never took,"he replied bitterly.It was always something with Logan,that asshole."Radar,scan him,see if there's been a change." 

Radar was the code name of the telepath currently sharing space in the back with Delaney.He sort of looked like Radar from the old M.A.S.H. t.v. series,so the code name was appropriate,but of course he hated it.But no one cared what he thought. 

Presumably he did as he was told.Maybe that's why he suddenly screamed bloody murder. 

"Holy fuck!"Delaney shouted,and Harris looked back,away from Logan,who seemed to have stopped dead himself. 

Radar had collapsed onto the floor of the truck,his body jerking violently as if he was having a seizure,and blood was pouring out of his nose and ears."Radar,what is it?What happened?"Delaney shouted at him,trying to hold his spasming shoulders still. 

Harris glanced at Logan and his companion,and noticed Meyers had jumped the gun,bringing his chopper over too soon. Well, fuck:they knew they were here now anyways. 

"Oh shit,"Delaney gasped."I think he's dead.What the fuck just happen?" 

"Logan's piece of ass,"Harris growled,almost admiringly.Logan occasionally knew how to pick his allies,didn't he?"She's probably a strong telepath.Stronger than Radar,at any rate."He reached blindly for his radio and flicked it on."Cyclops,I want you to hit the Southern end of Anderson Street from behind:start with the March building first.I want to try to take Wolverine and his friend out as collateral damage." 

"Understood,"Cyclops replied,his voice over the radio broken with static. 

Wolverine wasn't hiding behind a skirt this time,no matter how powerful her mutation. 

Let's see her telepathy work when an entire building fell on their heads. 

** 

London,England 

    The pub was just as it should be:made of dark wood and reeking of cigarettes,beer,and just a slight undertone of body odor and perfume,it was half full even at this relatively early time of day.The beers that Srina had ordered them were dark and looked thick enough to stand a pencil in.It was warm,but Logan had the idea the kick of the thing-if he could feel it-would knock him on his ass.Now that was a beer. 

They took seats in the back,at a small table scarred by a thousand past cigarettes and stained by a thousand spills of beer.It was so small that,even though they were sitting across from each other,every time they shifted position their legs would touch under the table.Not so bad really. 

Since they rather quietly walked away from the cannery slash nightmare factory (right under the noses of the soldier boys),Srina had seemed desperately uncomfortable.He thought it maybe it was her leaving her car behind (it was so expertly camouflaged as junked the soldiers didn't seem to notice it.She wasn't concerned about them running the plate,either,as she apparently kept up a running series of false ones,on the off chance someone noticed her car near a crime scene),but he began to realize it was just coming clean that was burrowing under her skin.Something bad had happened back then,and that was the most likely reason why she didn't want to talk about it. 

He hoped he hadn't done something to her. 

After a stiff drink of courage,she said,"So where do you want me to start?" 

He shrugged."The beginning's always good." 

She gave him a small kick in the shin under the table."Hey,"he snapped,although it didn't really hurt that much.If she had done it any harder,she might have broken her own toes. 

"Don't be a smart ass,"she warned,her violet eyes narrowing to slits. 

"I don't know how to be anything else." 

The look didn't abate in the slightest."So when are you opening at the Chuckle Hut?" 

He returned her look sarcastically."Come on,Sri,just talk. Start wherever the hell you want." 

"All right.I was born the son of a sharecropper,"she began,then smirked at him."You're not the only one who can be a smart ass." 

He sat back in his rickety wooden chair (this one sounded like it could barely hold his weight as well),and folded his arms across his chest."Sri,"he said warningly. 

She rolled her eyes."Yeah,yeah.Would you deprive a girl of a little fun?" 

He didn't answer,just raised an eyebrow at her,letting her know his patience was wearing thin. 

She sighed heavily,like he was the biggest pain in the ass she had ever encountered.Well,that was possible."Fine.But I don't know everything.There were some gaps I had to fill myself,'cause I never got the whole story." 

He nodded."Fair enough." 

And then,her voice barely audible over the sounds of the tinny stereo system and the loud voices of the nearly drunk,she told him what had happened when he had been here last time. 

** 

London,England-1987 

    In spite of the crowds,she didn't find it hard to follow Logan;not only his hair and odd sense of fashion made him stand out from most of the tragically hip around here,but he had a unique sort of gait.She hadn't noticed it before,but she did now:he walked like he was a panther on the prowl.Sounded silly,and was terribly hard to describe,but he looked like any second he was going to kill something.She no longer doubted that he could.But what (who?) would it be? 

It also helped that people generally made way for him.Maybe it was his "move or I'll move you" glare.No one could project an air of palpable malice like Logan,and be obviously willing and able to back it up. 

He disappeared around the corner of an alley-never a good idea in this neighborhood-but since Logan was surely the most dangerous person around,he was in no danger. 

As she turned the corner,something grabbed her and threw her against the wall,and she yelped in surprise,mainly because she was in invisible mode. 

Maybe she shouldn't have surprised to see Logan was up in her face-or at least where her face ought to be,if it was visible."What have I told you about followin' me?"He growled. 

She went back to visible,if only so he could see her giving him the evil eye."Hey,I was just out,mindin' my own business.It was coincidence that you were out here too." 

He scowled at her,obviously not buying it."You could get hurt.And if you get caught,you could get killed." 

"I can take care of myself." 

He continued to scowl at her."That ain't the point,Spud." 

Okay,he was calling her that to annoy her."Well,my point is I'm bored of being cooped up.Come on,what's wrong with goin' out for a drink?" 

He sighed and rolled his eyes,letting go of her arms."If we're seen together in public,it's probably the death of you." 

"Really?Are you being followed by someone?Other than me,of course.Are you being watched?" 

With great reluctance,he conceded the point."No." 

"So then,let's go.There's a place around the corner from here that you embassy workers-"She winked knowingly."-wouldn't be caught in.C'mon." 

He shook his head,shrugging his shoulders."Yeah,well,I lost the scent anyways." 

"The scent?You were trailing someone by smell?How?" 

He turned away,but not before she could see the annoyance flash through his eyes."It's a gift.Let's go,I could use a drink." 

He let her lead the way,hanging back ever so slightly,as if keeping an eye out for someone,or simply hanging back to keep an excusable distance between them.She wanted to turn around and slug him,but having felt his muscles herself,she knew she'd probably just hurt herself.If he wanted to be such a completely paranoid bastard,that was fine,but she drew the line at sitting at separate tables. 

He suddenly stopped,and hastily whispered under his breath,"Keep walkin'.I'm bein' followed." 

She turned and fixed him with a corrosive stare."Yeah,right.Look,you wanna chicken out?Chicken out!Don't make up some bullshit story-" 

He had turned,and his hands clenched into fists at his sides,nine inch long metal claws suddenly punching through the flesh of his knuckles."Get out of here,"he snarled,almost sounding inhuman.It also sounded like he was sniffing the air like a dog. 

Okay,he said he had claws,but he never said anything about them being metal,or being so fucking huge. 

What was going on?Was the guy he was after suddenly stalking him?Who would be stupid enough to come after a guy with a body as hard as rock and knives in his hands? 

She got her answer when Logan suddenly looked to his right,and the brick wall on that side seemed to explode all over him. 

Srina instantly went invisible,at least until she could figure out what was going on,and she saw Logan go down hard,with something on top of him,stabbing him with what looked like its own metal claws even as the bricks continued to fall on top of both of them.The...thing looked like a human,kind of,just as broad shouldered as a barn with hair that wasn't so much hair as living tendrils that seemed to moving in a thousand different directions,as if trying to flee his bulbous,milk white scalp. 

She looked around for something she could use as a weapon as she heard Logan grunt with pain as the thing seemed to be trying to rip open his stomach,but Logan shoved his own claws deep in the thing's chest,making it scream in a way that was part buzz saw and part grizzly bear.He ripped his claws in different directions and white blood that looked like glossy paint splattered everywhere,and at the same time Logan got his knees up and kicked away his attacker,sending him flying through the hole he had left in the building that had once housed a grotty billiards parlor. 

She had found what looked like an old plumbing pipe behind a dumpster,but she didn't seem to need a weapon anymore. Still, she stayed invisible,mainly out of self-preservation. 

Logan got to his knees,an arm wrapped around the mess that was his stomach.He was bleeding quite badly,and his stomach was a complete ruin:it looked like shredded beef,and his shirt was in complete tatters,barely hanging on.She heard a weird rumbling noise,and it took her a second to realize Logan was growling like an angry dog.His blue-green eyes were glazed with pain,yet they were full of a rage that looked frighteningly inhuman:ballistic did not cover it,nor did nuclear.Even homicidal seemed tame. 

He hurt him.She got the idea people who hurt Logan rarely lived to do it again. 

Maybe it was the reflected light from the street,but as he rose shakily to his feet,it looked like his stomach was moving...roiling. Muscle tissue seemed to grow back together,moving like bloody snakes as they joined and formed a solid latticework for the skin, which seemed to be spreading across him like fire on gasoline.She thought she was going to be sick. 

Somehow,the thing dove through the wall,screeching like a hawk,but Logan,grunting in pain,lashed out a claw,and even as the huge white blur hit Logan solidly and drove him deep into the parallel wall (hard enough to leave a Logan shaped dent in the brick facade) she saw something fly off the mutant Casper and land on the pavement not a meter from her. 

It was the top of Whitey's scalp,the snake like tubules he had in place of hair now writhing like they were in pain.It almost looked like they were trying to crawl along the pavement,back towards its owner. 

Okay,now she knew she was going to be sick.She tried to swallow back her rising gorge and looked away,as she wasn't sure vomit could ever be invisible.What the fuck kind of mutant was Whitey? 

Where were Ghostbusters when you needed them? 

He was still hammering away on Logan too,scalped or not.And she saw why:his head seemed to be...healing over,just like Logan's stomach,and even new tubules were sprouting before the leathery flesh had completely healed shut.It was more sickening than what had happened to Logan-but it was the exact same process,wasn't it? 

The thing seemed to be slashing wildly at Logan's soft tissue,tearing away flesh and spattering blood,but Logan was slashing back as good as he got,with a lot more deadly precision.The thing should have been dead ten times over-but then again,so should have Logan. 

Logan punched his claws straight through Whitey's face-the tips burst through the back of  his pasty head in a spray of glue like blood,and even so,Whitey just howled as if it hurt and was not a mortal injury,and picking Logan up with the claws he had once again buried in his abdomen,he threw Logan down the alley like he was nothing but a sack of garbage. 

Logan tried to catch himself,but was too badly hurt,and ended up hitting the ground face first.But she knew from the groan of frustration and pain that he was still conscious,and it seemed impossible that both these guys were moving,nonetheless still alive. 

The mutant quickly went after Logan,and he was talking-growling-under his breath."First they send a crap psionic after me,and then they send you,old man.And you're supposed to be the best of what they've got?Sad.No wonder they needed me." 

He didn't seem to 'smell' her like Logan;he walked right by her,and she wondered why she hadn't tripped him or something. Was it her,or did he smell a bit like eau de sewer? 

Logan growled as he got up,still grabbing his bleeding,slashed open gut (although it was quickly healing over again)."Famous last words,bub." 

"For you,yes,"Whitey agreed,and as Logan rose to his feet,Whitey lunged for him. 

But in spite of being handicapped by an open wound,Logan moved quickly and spun around,claws flashing through the air. 

She would have sworn there was no contact on Logan's part before Whitey tackled him and threw him down,but she heard something clatter against the wall before hitting the ground,and Whitey shrieked in horror,even as he tried to shove Logan's head through the pavement."Motherfucker!You're dead!" 

Srina saw what looked like long,thin ivory nails a few feet away,and realized they must have been Whitey's claws.Logan had cut them off. 

Logan slashed blindly,slicing through Whitey's ugly face,but that didn't keep Whitey from digging the stumps of his claws into Logan's throat,ripping free a chunk of flesh in a sudden gout of blood."How much blood can you lose before it's critical,Wolvie? Huh?Do you know,you stupid piece of shit?" 

Remaining invisible,she walked up to Whitey,straddling Logan as he continued tearing open his throat (when it tried to heal,he just tore it open anew),and took a tennis stance.Her poor lower middle class parents had once paid for tennis lessons, misguidedly thinking it would be a way out for her,but frankly she sucked at it,and she hated tennis.They liked it,not her.The only thing she was ever good at was the forehand smash-she could send a ball into orbit.Apparently,you weren't supposed to do that in tennis,though (her instructor advised her to take up cricket,golf or volleyball).She wondered if she still had the same old magic.  
In her mind,she shouted 'Fore!' and smashed Whitey in the back of the head with the pipe. 

It seemed to bounce off his skull with a sound like a muffled gong,but he fell off of Logan,obviously stunned."What the fuck..?!" Whitey exclaimed,grabbing the back of his head. 

She took a second swing,smacking him straight in his face.He fell onto his back,his beak like nose spurting milky blood.She realized his face was wrong in a way that was almost unidentifiable;the skin was as smooth as silk,his mouth almost lipless,and his eyes seemed sunken,his eyes irises white while the traditional white of his eyes was a sort of an egg yolk yellow.That was what his face looked like-an egg sketched ineffectually with an eerie outline of a face. 

"Sri,I told you to get out of here,"Logan growled raspily,holding onto his throat.Blood was still oozing through his fingers,and he was still trying to struggle to his feet,even though he was starting to look paler than she had ever seen him.The Eggman had ripped open his carotid artery.How the hell was he even alert?It looked like he was fighting to keep his eyes open. 

The Eggman must have figured out where she was,because he looked at her with his yellow-white eyes,and lunged towards her with his stubby claws.Logan kicked out,nailing Eggy in the sternum,and Sri wound up and smashed him in the side of the head again. 

Eggman went flying sideways and hit the pavement hard,rolling to a stop as soon as he slammed up against the dumpster.He was still conscious (fuck-what did it take to put this son of a bitch down?),but blood was dripping from his face (from his head tubules?) as he snarled at them."So,you have an invisible friend,huh?You actually think that's enough to save your sorry ass?"Eggy stood and   
grabbed the one ton dumpster like it weighed nothing,and shoved it straight towards them.As big and heavy as a water buffalo as it was,it was moving as fast as a car,and it seemed like a blur as she was suddenly shoved violently aside,hard enough to hit the wall and see stars. 

Even as she sank to the ground,struggling to stay unseen,she saw the dumpster run straight into Logan (who had somehow managed to get to his feet in time to shove her away),and Eggy slammed it to the side,wedging Logan between the dumpster and the wall of the old billiards hall."Nice try,old man,"Eggy snarled,as she saw a dark liquid ooze from beneath the dumpster.   
With a lurch of her stomach,she realized it was blood:Logan must have been crushed flat as a pancake.Okay,now she was going to barf."But thanks to you,I think my claws will grow back just fine." 

And then Eggy ran off,disappearing into the night,laughing like the complete fucking nut he must have been. 

She went back to visible and finally set the pipe down beside her,staring at the dumpster like it might come to life and ram her at any second."Logan?"She asked,and felt instantly idiotic.She had just watched him get smooshed like a bug beneath a shoe.Did she actually think he could answer? 

And that's when the dumpster moved. 

The wheels squeaked as it was moved away from the wall incrementally,and she jumped to her feet,startled beyond words. Could the Eggman turn invisible too? 

She was about to bolt when she heard an unintelligible noise from behind the dumpster,and she had spent enough time in bed with Logan to know what his inarticulate grunts sounded like.No fucking way."Logan?"She repeated,carefully creeping to the far side of the dumpster,giving it a wide berth in case it moved more suddenly. 

It moved more,making her jump,and Logan crawled out from behind it,pausing to spit out a mouthful of blood and what looked to be several teeth."Fuck,"he said,sounding like he had a head cold as his obviously broken nose reconstructed itself as she watched."I hate losin' teeth.They hurt so fucking much when they grow back." 

"They grow back?"She asked,then moved to help him as he struggled to his feet.She grabbed an arm and tried to help hoist him up,but he was so heavy she almost fell over.But between her and the brick wall,he managed to get to his feet. 

He looked hideous.The lower half of his face and his chest was drenched in blood,and his jeans looked almost black with it.His stomach and throat wounds had all but healed over now,save for some lingering scars on the skin (fading every second,like they were slowly submerging beneath his flesh),but his eyes were very glassy,almost rolling inside his head,like he was going to collapse any second now.Considering he could barely stand,she would bet on that. 

"I can't take you to a hospital,can I?"She asked,guessing his mutant ability was so extreme (not to mention his metal claws) it would be instantly noticed in the emergency room. 

He shook his head,and nearly made himself fall over.She grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders,but all that accomplished was she almost fell down with him.Man,he was so much heavier than he looked." 'll be okay.Give me a sec." 

"Fuck you!I've never seen so much carnage outside a horror movie in my entire life!Who the fuck was that wanker anyways?" Now that she had found her outrage,a thousand questions popped into her head."And why did he call you old man?And what did he mean "thanks to you,my claws will grow back"?" 

Logan shook his head again,but more carefully,so he didn't throw himself off balance."Which way did he go?All I can smell at the moment is my own blood." 

Okay,now she knew he was as barmy as that white faced motherfucker."Are you saying you're going after him?In the shape you're in?!' 

"I have to." 

"Why?" 

He gave her a sidelong glance,his eyes looking a little more brighter and focused." 'Cause he pissed me off." 

She rolled her eyes at this macho bullshit,and tried to ignore the growing weakness in her legs.Adrenaline overload;only now was it really hitting her.That Kabuki skinned motherfucker was a real psychotic;he could have killed them both."We can call the bloody coppers,say we were attacked by some deranged mutant.You know they'll-" 

"They'll be killed,"he interrupted impatiently.He seemed to be becoming his crabby old self by the second."Not that I honestly give a fuck,but this is not Amateur Night.I have to hunt this cocksucker down and finish the job." 

"So that's the thing you've been after?What the fuck is it?" 

"A mutant called Chimera.He used to be-"he hesitated,as if he didn't know what to say,or had said too much. 

"Like you?"She asked,filling in the most obvious answer."He used to work for the 'embassy',is that it?Is that why he called you 'old man','cause you'd been there longer?" 

He looked away before he nodded."Yeah,somethin' like that.Look,go home-I'm okay.I have work to do." 

"Oh,fuck you twice!"She snapped angrily. 

"Not right now,"he replied flippantly,freeing his arm from her shoulders."Maybe later." 


	10. Part 10

She slammed a flattened palm into the back of his shoulder,and instantly regretted it as a sharp pain seemed to shoot up her entire arm.She swallowed back the yelp that threatened to escape her lips,as she didn't want to give him that satisfaction.But what the hell was he made of?Metal?(Well,that would explain why he wasn't pavement pizza right now...)"What the fuck can you do,Logan?He's obviously stronger than you." 

"Yeah,but I'm the better fighter,and I'm not completely bugfuck." 

"Are you sure about that?" 

He didn't even answer that,just started off in the direction that Whitey (Chimera) had run off to.His sense of smell must have come back."You need my help.I saved your life!" 

"No you didn't." 

She scowled at his back.Yes,he was as manly as hell,but did it have to come attached to the hip with this macho bullshit?"He has your healing ability,Logan.How do you think you're gonna kill him?" 

He shrugged."I'll think of something." 

Something bizarre suddenly occurred to her."Is he related to you?" 

That made him pause.His back seemed to stiffen before he admitted grudgingly,"In a way,yeah."He then shook his head as if clearing it."Go home,Spud.Forget about all of this.It's better for your health." 

She stood there,silently fuming as he went after his newly found 'prey'.The man was fucking bonkers; completely out of his gourd.That butt ugly thing had nearly killed him,and yet he was going after it,barely able to walk.Couldn't he call for back up? 

Or was Logan it?Was he both the front line and the fall back?The egghead seemed to indicate Logan wasn't the first to come after him,simply the latest.And what had Logan said in the book shop?"I'm your last,best hope-" 

So he was it.Whatever this guy was,they had been unable to contain him.And it was Logan's job to do it,or die trying. 

Shit.She mentally called herself every name in the book as she grabbed her pipe and went after him,hoping to pick up his trail before he got too far ahead of her.Maybe she suffered a head injury to even think about doing this,but hell-since when had she ever been able to leave before finding out how a story ended? 

** 

Whistler's Point,Alberta,Canada-Now 

    Bob grinned like the Cheshire Cat,amused and eager,and that more than anything convinced Jean he couldn't be Human,not even in a passing sense.God knew what was about to set upon them,and he seemed happy about it. 

The helicopter swooped back around,and Bob waved at it dismissively."Go home." 

The helicopter veered off suddenly,and started flying away towards the South.It took her a moment to realize:"Did you just order the pilot to fly home?" 

Bob nodded,looking at her with that broad grin that made him look like an excited schoolboy."Yep.I wonder what the wife will think when he lands on the front lawn in an unmarked black helicopter straight out of the X Files." 

She shook her head,trying not to let her own amusement show."You're playing havoc with people's lives,you know." 

He simply shrugged."Hey,they started the fight.I'm just finishin' it." 

"Do you have any idea how many soldiers there are around here?" 

"At minimum two full units,so at least forty." 

"Forty?"She exclaimed.Honestly,she expected maybe ten,tops. 

"Logan's hard to handle." 

She had to concede the point."Tell me about it." 

That was when the building next to them exploded. 

"Protect us,Jean,"Bob said,as the debris seemed to come flying at them at sonic speed.She wanted to tell him she wasn't sure she could (she was lucky to do it once),but suddenly she found herself doing just that:hands raised above her head,she repelled the debris as the entire building fell down on top of them (well,around them,since her telekinetic field held).She was sure he had pushed her,but right now she wasn't going to chew him a new one over it (maybe later). 

"The demon was an idea,"Bob sang,even as the dust cloud of pulverized debris rose around them like smoke."The demon is awake."She wondered if he ever lost his terminal cool. 

It also occurred to her,after the fact,that she had seen a burst of red when the building collapsed,and now,through the hazy dust clouds,she could see a man standing only a few feet away from where the building used to be,a lean figure dressed in black.A familiar figure. 

Scott. 

Even though she couldn't quite see him clearly,she knew he had a hand raised to his visor,and he was about to shoot them. "Scott," she shouted,raising her hands towards him.Would she be willing to hurt him?She didn't know.She didn't want to have to find out either. 

"Oh,now,you're aiming the wrong way,"Bob said,his voice all sweetness and light.Scott seemed to freeze,and she realized,with a quiet sigh of relief,Bob had him."We're not your enemy.They are." 

And with those words,Scott turned and fired a coherent beam of red energy at a truck she had not noticed before.It crumpled like a tin can,and went tumbling along the street like a bowling ball,only coming to a rest as soon as it toppled a street light. 

"Now there's a plot twist I bet they never saw coming,"Bob said happily,rubbing his hands together. 

She stared at him in disbelief."You can't be enjoying this." 

He simply grinned at her,showing off perfect teeth,and a smile that could melt a thousand hearts.Yes,he was. 

No wonder he was a friend of Logan's.What a weird,weird man. 

"I'll take the North,you take the South,"he said,turning in the appropriate direction.She instantly saw what he meant as armored trucks suddenly cordoned off both sides of the small street,and more helicopters came in,diving in like birds of prey,all providing cover for armed soldiers in what appeared to be elaborate body armor. 

"Down on the ground,Wolverine,now!"Someone shouted gruffly,accompanied by the sound of several safeties being snapped off of far too many automatic weapons. 

Scott had turned his attention to snow camouflaged soldiers trying to come down from the hills;they weren't getting very far. 

She raised her hands protectively towards the dozens of soldiers who had her in their sights.She didn't want to have to hurt them,but she didn't want to get shot either. 

"Night now,"Bob said cheerfully,and half of the soldiers facing him suddenly collapsed,falling to the ground right where they stood. The other soldiers looked around,confused and frightened,and then the rest opened fire."You're only going to miss," Bob said,and while the bullets seemed to fill the air all around them,no one came close to even hitting them."You're out,"he said to the soldiers facing her,with a dismissive wave of his hand.Half of them fell over too,not dead,but seemingly seized with sudden onset narcolepsy.She wondered if she could do something similar with a telepathic suggestion. 

Bob then started walking towards the rest of his firing squad.The man either had to have supreme confidence in his abilities to control large groups of people,or he had balls the size of the Elgin Marbles. 

Jean looked at the soldiers facing her (well,the ones still conscious and upright) with great trepidation,aware they were creeping closer in spite of the wild crossfire from their comrades.She didn't want to hurt them,but there was no choice here, was there? 

Maybe there was. 

Taking a page out of Magneto's book,she telekinetically ripped the weapons out of their hands and tossed them into the rubble of the building that Scott had just destroyed.They could go get them,but they would have to get past her,and now they all looked startled and dubious,feeling emasculated by their lack of weapons and stunned by her power.They looked between themselves,falling back a couple of steps.One of them got on the radio and called for help. 

Scott sheered the tail off one of the choppers with an optic blast,forcing it to crash land on the neighboring street,and she suddenly wondered why the town was so quiet.It was like they were given advanced warning-or were so used to paramilitary activity they knew to instantly duck and cover. 

Bob was singing again,as the soldiers he approached began frantically shouting for "Wolverine" (obviously they still saw him as Logan) to freeze,the terror and confusion clear in their voices.They had lost control of this situation quickly,and they didn't know how,nor how to react to it. 

"Sucking on your life just like the hole you're living in,"Bob sang,his tone moving from gleeful to quietly menacing."You're complaining all the time,but now the sucking really begins.With me." 

"Stop right there,Wolverine!"One of the soldiers screamed,sounding near hysteria."This is your last warning!" 

"No,"Bob replied."You stop.All of you."The remaining soldiers stopped shooting,and they seemed to freeze in their tracks like they were pretending to be mannequins."Now,what good would threatening Logan get you anyways? He's not the type that takes well to threats,and frankly bullets would more than likely just tick him off.Sure,enough high velocity bullets bouncing off his metal skull might knock him out for a bit,but it still seems you were relying a lot on chance.Not at all a smart thing to do with him,and you had to know your superior numbers mean little to a man who's a walking Ginsu and has a whole bunch of anti-authoritarian issues to work out.So what was the frequency,Kenneth?What was the big plan here?"    

Bob suddenly spun on his heels,and looked at the soldiers she was warily facing off with."Don't you fucking dare!Mission's a disaster-beat cheeks!" 

Suddenly the line of soldiers broke and run,some heading for vehicles still intact,others simply disappearing down side alleys. She wondered what they had been planning to do. 

Bob had turned back to his frozen soldiers though,waiting for an answer.Finally one,whom she guessed to be the commander of the group,said."The implant was supposed to activate." 

"Implant?" 

"Wolverine's cranial implant." 

Jean walked over to Bob's side of the street,picking her way carefully through the rubble."What is he talking about?"She wondered,alarmed.The instruments in her lab couldn't read anything through his adamantium plated skull,which was why she had no idea if his prolonged contact with Rogue had left him brain damaged.That had been a fear,in spite of his healing abilities (and Scott's snarky comment "What brain?"). 

Bob shook his head."Since when has Logan had a cranial implant?" 

"Grand Cache." 

"Ah,I see.Some kind of mind altering,mood controlling thingymabob?"Bob guessed. 

"Yes."The soldier replied flatly.It was like he was hypnotized,except there was obvious fear in his eyes:he didn't want to say any of this,but he was unable to help himself.He was a puppet and Bob was the puppet master,which was a deeply unsettling thought. 

"What was the fall back plan if it failed to activate?The telepath?" 

"Yes." 

"Hmm.Well,you batted a thousand today,didn't you?"Bob then looked around,and said,"Bring your leader here.Hurt 'im if you have to,but I want him alive and conscious." 

Wordlessly they obeyed as a group,all eight of the men heading off towards the hills,where Scott still had several soldiers pinned down hopelessly.He'd left several ruts in the snow,exposing bare ground,and had toppled several trees,some of which were smoldering.She wondered if he was using lethal force.Normally he never would,but Bob hadn't brought him back to normal,simply rearranged the targets. 

"Why didn't you change Scott back to normal like you said you would?"She asked,eyeing him skeptically. 

"Because a war zone is no place for angst,guilt,questions,and disorientation.We'll deal with that on the way." 

"On the way where?" 

"Their super secret hideout.I want to shut these guys down at the source if possible." 

"I didn't think that was possible." 

"Well,as much as they move around,there has to be a home b.o.o.-base of operations.The grunts won't know it for security reasons,but the nacho grandes must."Bob then looked off towards the hills,and shouted,"Scott,let 'em pass-they're okay." 

She gave him a hard look,and said,"You didn't change him back because you wanted him to use lethal force." 

Bob gave her a strangely sympathetic smile."I know he's your rock,Jean,but he does have a temper.If I changed him back now,he might use lethal force anyways.Wouldn't you?" 

She stared at him a moment,and was about to tell him off,but something stopped her.Scott wouldn't do that,she was sure of it-but he had destroyed the Seventh Circle,hadn't he?He was ashamed of it later,but at the time it hadn't stopped him. 

Of course that was a building,not a person,so it was completely different.Right?Of course it was. 

So why couldn't she shake the feeling that Bob may have been right? 

** 

London,England-1987 

    She watched from a distance as Logan's shambling stagger turned into his usual confident stalking:being on the move didn't seem to affect his healing abilities.Since he stuck mostly to back alleys,most people didn't see him,but a couple of times people did see him and stared.Someone offered to call nine nine nine,and he gave them the finger. 

He probably knew she was following him,but he had yet to turn back and give her the finger or acknowledge her in any way. He was probably pouting. 

Logan cut between an alley and slashed his way through a chain link fence (he could have climbed it easily,but obviously he was in no mood to fuck around),headed for a trendily sleazy club called Hell.What,had the Eggman stopped in to try and pull a bird?Or was Logan just trying to throw her off? 

She hung back warily,in case he tried a doorway ambush,but as soon as she got close enough to peer inside,she saw him standing inside the club,his back to her,the loud music pounding and the lights flashing in and out of rhythm.He was just standing there,not doing anything,and she wondered why,until she crept closer and saw for herself.At first,she thought someone,as a joke,had thrown heaps of clothes and rags on the floor,and splashed the lot with red paint.But it wasn't clothing,and it wasn't paint. 

It was bodies.Dozens and dozens of bodies. 

The closer she got,the more she could smell blood,so she stopped before the nausea overwhelmed her.She had never wanted to toss her cookies so much in one night (except that time as a teenager,when she drank an entire bottle of peach schnapps after eating a pint of rum raisin ice cream). 

"Motherfucker,"Logan snarled."Goddamn motherfucker." 

How had the Chimera killed everyone in the club in-what?Five minutes?It couldn't have been as much as ten.How had he done that? 

Logan shook his head,as if trying to banish the noise or the scent of new blood,and then turned and left the club.She made sure to be far from him when he came out,and she got nervous when he paused on the sidewalk to take a deep breath.For a moment,she was sure he'd start taking his frustrated rage out on her,but his head snapped around to the far end of the street.  
There was a woman standing there,her long black hair partially obscuring her pale face,dressed in black clothes so shapeless they could have been nothing more than a bedsheet wrapped around her.She smiled,but it seemed to split the lower half of her face,and her lips receded into her growing maw as her hair seemed to retract into her scalp.The black clothes began to fade as well,turning an almost luminescent shade of white. 

The Eggman. 

"If you had any brains at all,you stupid attack dog,you'd join me,"Chimera sneered,then disappeared quickly around the corner. 

Logan ran after him,and damn if he wasn't fast,especially considering he'd had his throat ripped out several minutes ago.She was glad he paused (and sprung his claws-my if that wasn't always bloody impressive and as threatening as hell) before rounding the corner,probably out of fear of ambush,but obviously the Eggman just got the fuck out of there.Either he really wasn't in the mood for a rematch...or he was leading Logan into a trap.An even bigger one than before.Did he know that? She had to assume,since he was the secret agent guy (or assassin-whatever.Same difference),that that scenario must have occurred to him.But what if it hadn't? 

In that case,he was damn lucky he had her tagging along to cover his ass. 

Srina knew she was in good shape:she may have had the 'gift' of invisibility,but that didn't mean she could always simply walk in the front door.No,some of the places she was occasionally hired to hit for her fence were private homes and,on one memorable occasion,a yacht that wouldn't even dock for security concerns (she had to swim out to it that time).Sometimes she had to scale and climb like a good,old fashioned cat burglar,but that was rare.Now she was thinking she didn't do those kinds of things nearly enough,because after a couple of blocks of winding alley trips,running full tilt in a desperate attempt to follow Logan(keeping up was out of the question),she was starting to get a painful stitch in her left side.She could live with it for now,but in a few minutes it would get unbearable,and she'd have to stop. 

This was so fucking unfair!It was Logan who was squashed by a one ton dumpster!Why the hell wasn't he lagging? 

In fact,as far as she could tell (and she was so far behind him she was lucky to catch a glimpse of him turning a corner far ahead of her-sometimes it was only a slashed open fence that let her know she was on the right track),he was gaining on the Eggman,who may have had his healing abilities but lacked Logan's stamina. 

Or that was all part of the trap. 

Fuck it,she didn't care-they were finally slowing down,and she could finally breathe again. 

She paused by the edge of a building she recognized as one of the warehouses that lined the docks,leaning against its corner as she sucked in several deep breaths,trying hard not to hyperventilate.The cool night air seemed to scour her throat raw as she took it in,and she almost choked on the scent of fish guts.God,did old ugly have to bring them to the docks?Was the park too bloody much to ask for? 

Logan was fighting someone several meters down the way.Several someones,in fact,as it looked like he had been attacked by a small group of men.But not for long:with crow bars and bottle for weapons (along with them being plain old normals), they didn't last a minute.Logan didn't even need to use his claws on them;he shrugged them off like insects,more annoying than dangerous.She didn't know why they had attacked him,but she was sure the Eggman was somehow responsible for it.  
But why?He had to know even a big group of humans wasn't much of a challenge for Logan.What was it,a distraction?Not a very good one.But maybe he had to work with what he had. 

"Stop fucking about!"Logan shouted angrily."Come out and face me!What,don't you wanna gut me too?!" 

If she were him,she wouldn't be tempting fate like that-he'd already gutted him once.But then again,if she was him,she'd have called out the Army and gone home.The best thing about being invisible is you never had to fight:she could be as passive aggressive as she wanted to be.She hadn't had a physical confrontation with anyone since she was fourteen. 

Well,until now.Did this count? 

She should really just leave Logan to this and go home.She was just a thief;he was the killer. 

Okay,no,she didn't mean that-but the point was,he was the professional here.If he needed to steal the Hope Diamond,she could show him how;but she wasn't even apprentice level at fighting psycho killers. 

It was so fucking quiet it was eerie.Was it always this quiet?Even Logan's steps on the dock seemed muffled somehow.It sent a chill down her spine,because it felt like something was going to happen,something really nasty,and the suspense was killing her.This was always the part of the horror movie when the bad guy jumped out of the shadows with a machete. 

Logan stalked closer to a stack of crates,and she cringed,sure big ugly was going to spring out and slice off a bit of Logan's face.But he stopped,and turned his gaze towards the water. 

It was really dark here;the only lights were ones farther up the docks and reflected off the water,which looked as black and still as a vast pool of oil.It didn't smell so great either,but hell,did the Thames ever smell good? 

Logan stalked out on the pier,looking for Eggy,but where the hell could he go?There were no boats around... 

And that's when the boards beneath Logan's feet seemed to rupture,and he felt straight through,disappearing into the water. 

She crept closer,wondering for a moment if he had been too heavy and simply stepped on a cracked board.But the violent sloshing sounds from the water convinced her otherwise. 

Eggy had been under the pier,and had simply broken through and dragged Logan down into the water.Why? 

Only one possible answer came to mind:Chimera intended to drown him.And if he did have metal in his body,that might be really easy. 

She moved closer to the pier,trying to look through the new hole in the dock,but it was so dark she could hardly see anything at all.Maybe she could see the water swirling,roiling like a washing machine load set on agitate,but not much else. 

How long had they been under there?Did the Chimera need to breathe,or could it breathe under water?What about Logan? Did his healing factor allow him to live without air for longer periods of time? 

Even though she was still invisible,she took a step back as something burst explosively to the surface,and she heard at least one loud gasp for air before whoever it was disappeared beneath the dark water once more.She hoped that was Logan,but it was too dark (and happened too fast) for her to say for sure. 

She felt stupid and helpless just standing here,but what else could she do?A pipe wasn't a good weapon under water,and she would hardly be invisible there,because she could fool people's eyes,but not the law of physics:she would have been visible simply by her movement,and by the water she displaced.She only got away with the yacht thing because they had no security in the water,looking for swimmers beneath the surface. 

Suddenly the agitation of the water sounded more violent,small waves slapping against the dock,and she thought she saw something in the water,pale white against the dark background,and a hand reached up and grabbed the side of the pier.A milk white hand. 

Which was weird,because there was also one floating in the water. 

Eggy was making a weird noise-something between a keening hiss and a growl-as he pulled himself onto the dock one handed,cradling his other arm against his chest.And it was just the arm:it stopped just beneath his left elbow. 

Water and creamy blood poured off of him as he got to his feet and started running off.She could have hit him,but he was surprisingly fast,and she was distracted by the appearance of another hand reaching up to grab the side of the pier close to her.Logan grabbed the edge before his claws retracted into his hand,and she thought she heard him cough before he pulled himself up.He still had both his hands,and save for a few quickly healing gashes on his face and neck,he looked no worse for wear. 

Well,yes he did-he looked like a drowned rat.But not a drowned gory rat,as the blood had actually been washed off him. Always an improvement. 

"Which way did he go,Spud?"He asked,climbing to his feet and shaking his head like a wet dog might shake his body after being out in the rain. 

She remained invisible,but still frowned at him."Are you gonna tell me you knew all along?" 

He nodded,coughing once more as he scanned the dock.The gashes on his neck and face-now gone-convinced her Chimera had tried to drown him.But metal in his body or not,Logan didn't meet anyone's definition of a passive victim.Logan's eyes went wide (and it was creepy,but she would swear they looked almost all black now,like the lack of light had caused his pupils to expand until the iris was a mere tracing,just like a cat's),and he suddenly spat,"Oh shit!" 

"What?"She asked,but not before he had run off,in the exact direction that Chimera had. 

So much for her needing to tell him. 

She herself cursed yet more running,but still went after him,now feeling like more of a witness than an actual participant. Well,so far that was true.Hopefully,it would stay that way.She just couldn't imagine leaving until she got to see Logan finish this ugly fucker off. 

    12 

Whistler's Point,Alberta,Canada 

    Jean flinched when the gunshot rang out,echoing off the hills in spite of the natural acoustic cushion of the snow.She then looked around wildly,trying to discern where it came from and who was hurt,but Bob already knew. 

That was his bad.He forgot to tell the soldier boys not to kill anyone who might offer resistance to them taking the head cheese,whether he wanted to come along or not.Someone had obviously figured out they had inexplicably switched sides like Scott,and tried to stop it,apparently not counting the number of soldiers and weighing the odds.Maybe he thought they'd come back to their senses and switch back to their proper side. 

The first shot was met by a second and third shot in rapid succession,and then it was over.Jean looked stricken."Forgot about armed resistance,"he admitted,but it was amazing how little he cared.He didn't condone a senseless loss of life,but these men were pretty pitiful excuses for humanity,seeing their fellow humans as something beneath contempt and perfectly disposable,just because they were different. 

He knew he should be above tit for tat revenge;it was petty,pointless,and basically threw you down to their level.But even he got fed up with the vicious bullshit every now and then.Maybe he'd been in Logan's mindset for too long. 

Jean suspected that.Her hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously,but her attention was drawn to the returning soldiers,who were dragging along a fruitlessly struggling man dressed in regulation olive drab."You,"Bob said,smiling in recognition as the craggy faced middle aged man was brought to him. 

The somewhat homely Colonel looked up,startled,and Bob saw no recognition in his sunken eyes,which was just as it should be."Who the fuck are you?You ain't Wolverine!" 

"Oh,right,see me as I am,"he said,and while the Colonel was surprised enough to stop struggling,he still had no recollection of him. 

"Who the fuck are you?"He repeated belligerently."What the fuck are you?" 

"The name's Bob,and we met before,in Death Valley.I wiped your mind,and the mind of your surviving men so you wouldn't remember." 

"What?" 

Clueless;perfectly clueless.And on so many levels."You've mentioned Death Valley before,"Jean said,looking at him and not at Harris,who gave her a look that suggested as soon as he got loose,he'd rape her before he killed her.Very nice.Good thing she didn't read his mind,or she would blow up his head,ala "Scanners"."What happened there?" 

"I'll explain later,"he offered,then turned a harsh gaze on Harris."I gave you a chance once.You blew it,Gene." 

"You're dead,mutie,"he spat,attempting fearlessness,even though he was perhaps a minute away from losing complete bladder control.The hatred was honest and raw.He hated mutants;he was so terrified of being considered inferior or redundant, because he feared he was. 

"I'm not a mutant,but thanks for the compliment.Now,where is the base you were going to take Logan to once you captured him?" 

He didn't want to say,but of course he had no choice."Up in Camp Lejune." 

Bob was relatively sure he knew where that was.Well,no,Logan did.It was at a higher elevation,about a hundred miles from here,and was the site of all old camp set up for mountain climbers,until a surprise blizzard killed about eight of them.It had been abandoned ever since,and would probably be a perfect place for a remote base,as the only visitors you'd get would be mountain climbers who could easily be made to disappear,or reappear as corpsicles later on. 

"Is there road access,or is it by 'copter alone?" 

"There's an old logging road,but access is limited." 

"Password protected?" 

Harris nodded."And mined." 

"Mined?"Jean repeated in disbelief,but of course he couldn't hear her right now."As in land mines?" 

Bob shrugged."That'd be how I'd take it,yeah."He then focused solely on Harris and his flat,dead eyes.With a mind as bitter and ugly as his,it was no surprise it was starting to leak through to the surface."Now where is the main base of the Organization?Home base?" 

His answer was slightly surprising,but not a big shock."I don't know." 

"What?"Jean exclaimed,sounding even more disappointed than he was. 

But Bob went on,because he knew as soon as Lejune heard the whole thing had been bolloxed,they'd be decamping tout suite."There is a chain of command.Who is the highest on the chain that you know of?Who verifies the orders?" 

"Control." 

There was a name he had heard before,also back in Death Valley.Elusive son of a bitch."So where is Control?" 

"Control is everywhere and nowhere." 

Jean scoffed faintly."Sounds like God." 

"Believe me,it doesn't,"Bob assured her."It actually sounds like brainwashing." 

"Which?His answer or God?" 

"Yes,"he agreed,and was not surprised at the look she was giving him out of the corner of his eye.Well,truth was a bitch sometimes."How do you contact Control,Gene?" 

"Through Captain Thorson." 

"Is Captain Thorson at Camp Lejune now?" 

"Yes." 

"Hallelujah amen,we have a winner."He was afraid this little leap frogging guessing game of 'who's the superior' would go on forever.The Organization must have been made up of complete fucking paranoids who reveled in their tiny military dictatorship."Now,Gene,what are we going to do with you?" 

He sensed Jean's discomfort long before she suggested,"We can leave him here-" 

"No,I did that at Death Valley.He had his second chance,and he blew it." 

She was afraid of what he might do.She wasn't completely sure what he was capable of,proving she was indeed very bright."I won't let you kill him." 

Bob found that mildly amusing,from several perspectives.As if she could if he had wanted to;as if she wouldn't if she knew what role he played in Logan's surgical mutilation and Scott's telepathic brainwashing;as if she had any other ideas;as if she wouldn't if she knew what Harris wanted to do to her.But he put Jean out of her misery,although he could see that senseless stubborn streak that Logan must have found very attractive,possessing a rather formidable one himself.But unlike Logan, Jean didn't show it much."No,death is too good for this pitiless man.I need something a lot harder than that." 

Out of the corner of his eye,he saw her stiffen,as if he had just jabbed her with a cattle prod."And what does that mean?"Her voice had dropped,becoming ice cold and sharp as a razor.She knew she didn't really have a chance against him,but she was willing to give it a try if she had to. 

Now Logan's attraction to her was starting to make more sense; there was a fighter and a bit of a 'wild child' in her,but she was so straight laced and uptight that side rarely saw the light of day.Logan either intuited it or saw enough of a glimpse of it to be convinced it was there.Although Logan liked women in general-he was not too picky when it came to being sexually intrigued by a woman(ah,but what male was?)-he had a special attraction and fondness for strong women.Not necessarily physically strong,but definitely stubborn and not passive;he liked women who could at least try and keep up with him,and,if necessary,take care of themselves.That last bit may have become a necessity,since knowing Logan usually shortened your life span rather abruptly. 


	11. Part 11

Bob couldn't keep the smile from his face."Don't worry,I don't mean something quid pro quo like torture.No,I mean it's time for Colonel Gene here to have a life." 

She looked puzzled,thinking that was the oddest 'threat' she had ever heard,and Bob found it hard not to laugh."What?"  
She asked,not sure if he was joking or not. 

But Bob kept staring at Harris,trying to figure out what would be most appropriate."As soon as these men let you go,you're going to drive to the States.Don't stop until you get there,and then pull over to the side of the road and sleep for twelve hours. When you wake up,you will believe you are Thomas Jones,a petty thief with a chequered past trying to go straight and escape a check kiting charge in...Nebraska." 

"Tom Jones?"Jean repeated. 

Bob ignored her,and his own impulse to start singing "It's Not Unusual"."You'll settle in...New Jersey,under the pseudonym of your choice.You'll live a quiet life as a...barber,and make a deliberate attempt to avoid any undue attention.Although you won't make a big deal about it,you will honestly believe mutants have the same rights as everyone else.Now,get going.Let him go, boys." 

The soldiers obeyed,and the slightly dazed Harris (now Jones) walked off towards the nearest vehicle,while Jean looked on in slack jawed shock."Can you do that?Rearrange his whole life?" 

"I think I just did,"he pointed out,then looked at the eager but perfectly empty headed soldiers in front of him."Logan and his friend kicked all your asses and reclaimed Cyclops,whose telepathic do over was easily overwritten by Logan's lovely friend. There will be no point in a follow up op,and if one is ever brought up,you will all be the first out the door.You will never want to get near Logan or any of his friends again.And what became of the Colonel is unknown.That's all,folks.Sleep tight."The jar headed octet all pitched forward on their faces,and Jean jumped back to avoid one colliding with her. 

Bob then made a 'wind it up' gesture in the air with his hand,and said,"Come here,Scott." 

He obeyed,as of course he would,avoiding the fallen bodies of the snoring soldiers in the snow.As soon as he came to a stop before him,he said,"You remember everything.Welcome back." 

Scott gasped and staggered slightly,as a breaking telepathic 'dam' was always a bitch,and Jean went instantly to his side, grabbing his arm and helping him remain upright.Scott started asking the "What the hell" and "What happened" line of questions,and he let Jean handle it as he scanned their surroundings.Looked like a big battle had taken place here. 

Huh.Funny. 

Also funny was there were no more choppers-between him sending them away and Scott shooting them down,they had stopped trying to use the whirlybirds.But that was for the best,really.It would take them too long to get to Camp Lejune that way.There was a much faster way.Shit;he hoped he could do it."I came to cut you up,I came to knock you down,I came around to tear your little world apart,"he sang under his breath,as he leaned over and stole a sidearm from the holster of one of the soldiers.He didn't recognize the type of automatic pistol,but it was fully loaded and ready to go.He popped the clip,and noticed the bullets looked a bit strange.Adamantium jackets?Wouldn't have been enough to do any damage to Logan's bones, but they could punch through lead walls.Neat-they had the whole toy chest. 

Too bad it wouldn't do them any good. 

He was shoving the pistol into the waistband of his jeans (near the hip-no fucking way would he put the barrel near the family jewels,even if it couldn't really hurt him for long) when he heard Scott say:"Bob,what the hell did you do to me?" 

He turned to face him,giving him an innocent look."Brought you back.You're welcome." 

Scott's lips thinned to a grim line.It was the only expression open to him since the visor covered his eyes.While he was only showing his anger on the surface,underneath he was more confused,disoriented,and scared shitless than anything else.He hadn't completely processed what they made him do yet."You know what I mean.Here,now-" 

"Ah,but we're not done,mate,"he interrupted."We have a party to crash." 

"What?"Scott replied,annoyed. 

"Camp Lejune?"Jean guessed.Another point for her.For the overly straight laced type,he bet he could work with her if she just loosened up a bit."How are we going to get there?" 

"Easily.I hope."He'd never been to the place,and neither had Logan,but Logan had known of it.Hopefully,that would be good enough. 

"Wait a minute,"Scott began,but Bob shook his head. 

"No time."He caught them both on his gaze,and said,"You'll be briefly,slightly disoriented,but you will feel no physical discomfort."That would be enough to protect them,he hoped.He then concentrated on Logan's idea of the Camp Lejune placement,said the words,and teleported the three of them. 

He just hoped it was the right place,and in the right dimension too.Some teleporters just didn't know how lucky they had it. 

** 

London,England-1987 

    Logan had run off in the direction of the abandoned cannery,but it wasn't immediately clear why. 

If she looked closely,she could a trail of almost phosphorescent white blood,but water had diluted it,and the light here was no better at all. 

Eventually,she came to the bodies. 

There were maybe six or seven,and they wore some kind of weird uniform.Army uniform?It was unlike any Army uniform she had seen before.No matter;these guys were torn up,and one looked shot in the face,a big gaping hole where he used to have subtle features,like a nose,some eyes,and most of his jaw. 

'These are the guys Logan works with,'she thought distantly,even as she paused to throw up. 

Even with just the one arm,Chimera had made mincemeat of them.Maybe six or eight men (some were just parts,and she wasn't about to play 'match that limb'),and she wasn't sure she'd heard a single bit of struggle. 

Logan had,though.Why else had he cursed and come this way? 

And where was he? 

Stopping to vomit,she'd lost track of him,but there was almost nowhere else he could go.This road was a dead end,and the cannery was the end of it all,before you plunged into the Thames.And Logan had already done that. 

In spite of the persistent,heavy darkness,she saw a silhouette on the top of the crumbling cannery,and knew from the rounded shoulders and the long,knife like claws hanging down from the hands that it was Logan.But how the fuck did he get up there, and why? 

From the way he stalked the roof like an aggravated caged tiger,she realized he was surveying the area,and offering himself as an easy target for Chimera.Man,he loved to live dangerously.And it was so sad that she found that almost unbearably attractive. 

It was then the eerily quiet night was shattered by a scream,a woman's scream,and a voice shouting desperately:"Logan,help me!" 

It took her a moment to realize the voice was hers,and coming from somewhere in the shadows at the base of the cannery. 

She became visible,even as Logan jumped down from the edge of the roof (he could jump four stories too?),and shouted, "No,it's not me!It's a trap!" 

But it was too late,because as soon as Logan landed feet first on the ground,Chimera-disguised as her in spite of having one arm (which was only visible once he moved out of the shadows)-rushed him,and stabbed him through the throat with something that looked like a metal spear,hard enough that the end of it burst through the back of Logan's throat,and embedded in the wall behind him.And as soon as Logan lifted a claw,Chimera jabbed him with something that shot blue sparks on contact with him,making a cracking noise as loud as the snap of a whip. 

Logan fell limp,sagging,the spear in his throat being the only thing keeping him up as his eyes stared wildly at Chimera,bright with pain.Blood was sluicing down Logan's chest and stomach like water had been when he pulled himself out of the river,and he was making a strange wet gasping noise as he tried to speak,swallow,or perhaps just breathe."It's solid adamantium,you know,"Chimera said,his tone mocking and dripping with contempt."Even if you could move,you couldn't cut through it." 

Chimera then tapped a stubby claw right between Logan's eyes,which were growing glassy and distant,staring at absolutely nothing."You had a good run,old man.But now it's time for the new breed." 

Blood was pooling at Logan's feet with frightening rapidity;Egghead had severed at least one major artery,and Logan was bleeding out like a cow in a slaughterhouse.She didn't think even he could survive that. 

Going invisible again,she ran at the Eggman,pipe raised,ready to knock his head clean off his shoulders. 

He must have sensed her coming,felt the shift of the wind,because he spun around,holding that boxy,spark shooting weapon defensively outward.She hit him in the side of the head as his weapon made contact with her pipe before being knocked away, and felt the electrical shock run through the pipe and straight into her. 

As the Eggman hit the ground hard,she felt the jolt throughout her entire nervous system,and tasted copper as she suddenly lost her grip on the pipe as well as her ability to feel her own legs.She tried to catch herself as she pitched forward onto the rutted concrete lot surrounding the cannery,but her arms no longer obeyed her either,and she hit the pavement chin first.Not only did it hurt like a son of a bitch,but it made her consciousness briefly fade to grey before rallying very slowly back to full, painful color. 

Maybe she was hit with a stun gun.She'd heard of such things being developed,but had never seen one.As her eyesight returned to full color,she realized the dark puddle of mud inches from her face was actually Logan's blood,and a small rill of it, following a crack in the pavement,was slowly coming right for her. 

"That's quite a talent you got there,girl,"she heard Chimera say,as he climbed painfully back to his feet."I could use that.I'm very close to perfect,but I think that will put me over the edge." 

She wanted to move her head,but she couldn't.She wanted to call out to Logan,see if he was still alive,but she couldn't do that either.'Please be alive,'she thought,desperately trying to will herself to move.'Don't leave me with this ugly psychotic gobshite.' 

She felt Chimera's shadow over her as he leaned down and hoisted her up,onto his shoulder-a clumsy and grotesque proposition at best with one arm and a stump (and she knew he touched her with his stump.Only the stun gun shock kept her from throwing up again),yet somehow he managed."At least your death won't be a complete waste,"he told her,as he walked past Logan on his way inside the cannery.If there was any life in him at all,she didn't see it;he was nailed to the wall like a specimen insect to a peg board,and he looked just as lively. 

Now she knew she had to hold out until she could move,and kill this fucker herself. 

Somehow.Some way. 

** 

Camp Lejune,Alberta,Canada 

    They snapped back to this reality on a snowy plain,their ears popping from the sudden altitude shift,making both Scott and Jean grab their heads briefly,as they hadn't been expecting it.Bob hardly noticed it. 

They were in a thin stand of scrub pine,just within view of a deep crag of rock,and what looked like a simple shelf of snow. Except the sun had melted enough of it that a part of it shined like a mirror.How did they explain shiny rock? 

"What the hell just happened?"Scott asked,having the sense to keep his voice low. 

"I teleported us to party central,"he told him,pretty sure this was both the right place and the right dimension.The air was a bit thinner up here,colder,and right now seemed to barely move.And it was quiet. 

Extremely quiet. 

"Shit,"Bob cursed,wondering why he didn't see this coming. 

"What now?"Scott asked,sounding slightly peevish. 

But Jean had jumped the gun,perhaps launching into defensive mode in an attempt to protect them all,and she gave Bob a truly shocked look."There's no one here." 

He nodded in agreement.If he didn't pick up anyone,she certainly wouldn't."The place is abandoned.They must have evacuated the instant it all went tits up.Excuse my French." 

From the scowl he got from Scott,he was more offended by his language than Jean."Why is this a shock?" 

"Scott,"Jean said,and then reached out and touched the side of his head.There was no affection in the gesture;she was simply telepathically bringing him up to speed,which was quicker than the clumsy oral way.Speech could be nothing but a pain sometimes. 

"Oh,"Scott finally said,as Jean withdrew her hand."This is one of the bases where Logan got altered?" 

Nice way to put it.Made him sound like a dog who'd been spayed.(Well,that would have made Scott happy if he was.) "Possibly.It was the place you and Logan were supposed to be brought back to once he was captured,subdued,or turned, whichever worked first." 

"But we didn't show up fast enough,"Jean said,finishing his thought,and sounding extremely disappointed.Part of her really wanted to a boot in the ribs of those who had kidnapped Scott and tortured Logan. 

Bob stared at the base,wondering why it hadn't blown up yet.They wouldn't leave it for some hiker to find.These paranoid fuckers destroyed every last trace of evidence that they ever existed,and yet still kept existing,like bugs who lived under rocks,and instantly burrowed into the Earth the moment one was overturned. 

But that was offending the bugs.Unlike these bastards,they never hurt anyone,and certainly weren't engaged in a secret war.  
Suddenly he knew why it hadn't self-destructed yet.They were waiting for visitors. 

"What is it?"Jean asked,reading his facial expression. 

"You two stay here,keep an eye out in case company returns,"Bob told them,stepping out of the protective shield of the trees. "I'm gonna see what they left behind." 

"You're not going in alone-"Scott insisted,and started to follow him,but Bob simply turned around and stared at him.Scott froze in his tracks,as did Jean,who was starting to follow him. 

"You both take shelter and stay here,"he informed them."Stay out of detonation range,and neutralize anyone who comes by." Bob didn't expect anyone to return,but he wanted to give them a sense of purpose while they waited a safe distance away.It would feel more natural,and less like a push in retrospect. 

He then went ahead,and into the Camp Lejune base. 

The door was open,but he expected that.They were just supposed to waltz in here like idiots."You're such an inspiration for the ways that I will never ever choose to be,"he sang,as he entered the adamantium lined airlock that opened up into an equally metal lined wall."Oh so many ways for me to show you how your saint has abandoned you."The acoustics were great in here,as was the lighting,but then the relentless silver plating reflected a lot.He'd need to put his sunglasses on soon,as it was starting to hurt his eyes.But he bet the blood and guts hosed off real nice."Fuck your god,your lord,your Christ.He did this,took all you had and left you this way.Stood and prayed,never stray,never taste of the fruit.Never thought to question why."The halls seemed perfectly the same,holding an equal amount of adamantium doored cells and laboratories,including a couple of operating theaters with nice big bay windows,so the normals could look down and watch a mutant get torn apart piece by piece,while they were still conscious enough to watch it.This was like the absolute epitome of torture chambers;high tech,newfangled,sterile as hell,so only those who wanted to get blood on their hands would.He had no idea where he was going,but like all roads led to Rome,all halls would lead to the command center eventually."It's not like you killed someone. It's not like you drove a hateful spear into his side.Praise the one who left you broken down and paralyzed.He did it all for you." 

Finally,he came to a big circular door,a smaller version of the front airlock,and it was not only adamantium plated,but had a retinal scanner as a lock.Bob wondered if he should blow its mind. 

He leaned down until the red laser of the scanner shined in his peripheral vision,and then he let his eye do what could only be described as 'alter',to borrow Scott's term.It would now be looking for a retina that wasn't there."Even though he did this to you,you never thought to question why,"he sang,as the computer behind the wall started to make the most curious noise. 

Everything had a retina,and its software had not included instructions on what to do when confronted with an eye that met all those parameters but that one.As it started to chase its own tail in a destructive little feedback loop,Bob put his hand against the door,and cast a simple spell:"Open." 

The door did just that,irising open with a slight pneumatic gasp."Hey,I didn't say 'sesame',"he pointed out,but he knew humor would be lost on a simple A.I. security system. 

The control room looked as bland as the security hub for any major casino:there were walls upon walls of monitors,which should have been showing the compound,the surrounding area,and all the rooms inside the base in the most minute detail,but were now disabled and showing nothing but electronic snow,the exact type of black and white hissing static you got when your cable went out. 

Except one.One monitor was showing a blank white wall. 

Bob crossed the steel floor and stood before a computer panel that could have come from Captain Picard's Enterprise,glancing around to see if any of the instrumentation still functioned.No,of course not,but Bob didn't need to see readouts to know exactly what was going on.That was the beauty of being him sometimes. 

"Hello hello hello,good day to you,Mr. and Mrs. America and all the ships at sea,"he said into the one functioning monitor. "Anyone out there in t.v. land?" 

The picture on the monitor seemed to slew around,and came to rest on a homely (was there any other kind?) green scaled Ressik demon."I told them you'd figure it out,but they almost didn't believe me,"the Ressik said,in a voice so deep Barry White would have weeped. 

"The bastards,"Bob mock commiserated.He wished he was surprised to see this ugly asshole,but no,he wasn't.They must have pulled info about him from Scott's mind,and did a bit of homework.Damn;he hated being anticipated in any way,shape,or form. 

The Ressik frowned,making it look like the lower half of his face was in danger of falling off."You're not taking this seriously, are you Drai'shajan?" 

Damn,they knew that identity."I take the systematic mutilation and murder of an entire species of Human very seriously.But you?No." 

The Ressik continued to give him that remarkably dour look."There's stuff stronger than you,you know." 

"Of course I know.There's stuff stronger than Logan too,but it hasn't seemed to help them catch him either." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

He tried to think of a way to put it that a Ressik would understand."It's not the size of the gun,it's how you use it,mate." 

"Is that what your girlfriend told you?"He replied,and Bob chuckled,because he knew that was coming."That's too bad for you." 

"We're not discussing the size of my Howitzer,"he pointed out,trying to keep a straight face.Even in an empty Torquemada's wet dream,it was difficult."We're supposed to be discussing what the fuck those chickenshits want from me." 

It was the Ressik's turn to chuckle."The chickenshits want a truce." 

"Do they?Are they going to stop torturing and killing mutants?" 

The Ressik shrugged."I dunno.There's a tape I'm supposed to play." 

"Well,play on,MacDuff." 

The Ressik scowled at him."I'm glad you find yourself amusing." 

"Mate,I'm hilarious,"he assured him,as he waited for him to load up the tape.Of course,Bob was sure he couldn't be nearly as hilarious as what he was about to watch,but hey,everyone had their cross to bear. 

Finally,it started,the white screen switching to solid blue,and then a close up of a man's face appeared,although it had been digitally blurred to hide all features,rendering him a fuzzy beige oval with a thin crop of dark hair."Hello,Drai'shajan,"the man said,and his voice had been digitally processed too,making him sound like the Ressik Barry White.He felt like he was watching testimony from a mob informant,but it just proved how paranoid these people were. 

Rightly so,actually.If he knew what Control looked like,it would be only a matter of time before he found him. 

"Hello,dickweed,"Bob replied cheerily,even though he knew Control couldn't possibly hear him.He must have found out his voice was a potentially deadly weapon. 

"I have a proposition for you,"Control droned on relentlessly in his digitally processed voice."If you cease your pursuit of us,we,in turn,will help you bring down the Powers That Be." 

Bob laughed.He had to hear this. 

    13 

London,England-1987 

    The inside of the cannery looked like it had been turned into a makeshift,ad hoc lab,or at least what little of it she could see of it.It was poorly lit in here too,and of course Srina still couldn't move her head yet,or any body part.As soon as she could, she was going to do her best to crush that fucker's tentacle ridden skull. 

Eggy put her on some kind of table,face up,and handcuffed her hands in front of her."Understand,I killed all the engineers who worked on me,"he said,walking out of her limited viewing range.She heard the clink of metal instruments,and she wondered what exactly he planned to do to her.What did he mean by engineers?Was he a fucking robot or something?"But I know there are some still alive.I'm sure I can persuade them to do a little more work on me.After all,pain and fear of death is a great motivator." 

'You are a sick fuck,'she thought,but of course she couldn't say it yet.But she thought she could feel herself wiggle her toes. Was she getting some feeling back? 

She saw him return in the corner of her eye,and he was holding up something it took her a moment to identify.A hypodermic needle."Oh,don't fret,love,"he said,smiling faintly in a way that was genuinely creepy.He probably didn't have a sane neuron in his head."I just need some of your DNA.Think of it as giving blood for a cause so much greater than you could ever know." 

Man,she hated needles.But all she could do was inwardly cringe as he pushed the tip of the needle through her upper left arm, and pulled back on the plunger,getting a hypo full of blood before he stopped and pulled the needle out of her. 

"There,"he said,grinning at the needle full of her blood."It's awesome to think the secret of your gift is in there somewhere, isn't it?Just waiting to be isolated and exploited." 

She wondered why she was supposed to care,and what he was planning to do with it.What,did he sell mutant blood on the black market?What for? 

She was now positive she could move her leg now;feeling was coming back to her body.But the bad part of that was the pain. Not only did her arm ache from the needle,but she felt like she had been burned from the inside out due to the stun gun,and her head hurt.Actually,hurt was too mild a word;it felt like it was full of molten lead,and her eyes were made of broken glass. Hitting the ground face first must have rattled her head more than she thought. 

He decanted the blood into a little vial that looked like the kind doctors took serum from."It was nice of the old man to give me an improvement before he left,"he said,sounding very happy with himself."Maybe he wasn't such a waste of flesh after all." 

She couldn't help but think he was the waste of flesh around here,but he wouldn't accept that.She was just about to try her luck and move,but then she thought she heard a noise outside.What was that? 

Eggy's head snapped violently towards the front of the cannery,and that's when the door seemed to explode open,and an angry scream filled the abandoned plant as Logan streaked across the room like a heat seeking missile,headed straight for the Eggman. 

'You killed him,'she thought,almost laughing at the absurdity of the idea.'Now you've really pissed him off.' 

Eggy attempted to defend himself,but Logan moved so fast she couldn't even see what happened until Chimera's head fell off his shoulders and rolled lopsidedly across the floor,gaining a foot or so before his body hit the ground. 

Logan viciously kicked the headless corpse.She was pretty sure she heard something snap,and not in Logan."Come on,man, pull yourself together,"he snarled,leaning down and slashing the body.He cut off the other arm,and began dicing the body like luncheon meat,splattering white blood everywhere.She thought it was a fit of rage,but as she glanced at the head...did his mouth move? 

Did Chimera's mouth just move?Was he still trying to speak,even decapitated? 

She closed her eyes tightly,willing herself not to throw up again.It was a spasm,right,a death spasm?There was no fucking way he could still be alive just as a head. 

But then why was Logan dismembering the body?That was the only way Chimera would stay dead,wasn't it?Total dismemberment.Jesus fucking Christ,she was going to get sick again. 

After a minute or two of listening to the sickening sound of Logan's claws tearing through flesh,she heard him walk across the concrete floor,but not towards her.There was a pause before he said,"What?Are you going to threaten to bite my kneecaps off?" 

He was talking to the head.She just knew he was talking to the head. 

He walked across the factory again,away from her,and she risked opening her eyes in time to see him approach the far wall,so underlit and swallowed by shadows she could pretend that was just a misshapen bowling ball he was carrying in his right hand.Logan kicked the wall,so hard he made a hole clean through,and she could smell the salty,polluted tang of the river on the cool night air that wafted into this sterile,airless place,now fetid with blood. 

"Go sleep with the fishes,asshole,"Logan snapped,and threw the head through the hole.She was pretty sure she heard a distant splash.Logan had thrown the Eggman's head into the Thames. 

As if it wasn't polluted enough. 

When he turned,he looked in her direction,although she wasn't perfectly sure,since her vision was a bit blurry at the edges. "You all right?Spud?" 

She moved her head to give him a disbelieving glare,but that seemed to shift the molten contents inside her brain,and shot a stabbing pain from her forehead to her shoulders.The blurring got worse,and she felt suddenly very nauseous again.Still,she managed to maintain,if just barely."Am I all right?I watched you get stabbed in the throat and die,then watched you dismember someone,and I'm handcuffed on a table.I'm fucking bloody brilliant!What do you think?!" 

"I didn't die,"he replied testily,as if that was somehow an insult."Do I look dead?" 

But as he reached the table,he seemed to stagger a bit,and grabbed onto the edge."My blood volume isn't back up to normal yet,"he said,as if that was an excuse.Well,it was,but it was a weird one. 

"Yes,you look dead,"she told him.He scowled at her,but it was the truth.He looked frighteningly pale;his lips were so bloodless they were all but white,and his facial hair stood out like a dark smudge stain on his face.He still had a partial hole in his throat,but it must have been mostly surface,as it was hardly bleeding at all,and he seemed to be talking and breathing just fine.Well,gasping a bit,but he seemed okay otherwise.Bloody remarkable for a man impaled through the neck."How much blood volume are you running on?" 

He shrugged as he popped a single claw."No idea.Probably fumes-adrenaline makes up for a lot.Hold still."Before she could ask why,he sliced one of the handcuffs off her wrist,and then another.He never even nicked her. 

"How sharp are those things?"She wondered.His claws had cut through the steel cuffs like they were made of crepe paper. 

"They're adamantium,"he said,and sounded almost embarrassed as the claw disappeared inside his hand. 

"I didn't think that was a naturally occurring metal." 

"It's not,"he said,not explaining anything at all.But then he looked down at her in a curious manner."Your eyes are unfocused." 

"What does that mean?" 

He didn't answer immediately."Head hurt?Kinda nauseous?" 

"I just watched you tear someone to pieces-wouldn't you be nauseous?" 

"No.Can you move?" 

She tried,but the pain in her head,the lurch of her stomach,and the sudden red fading of her vision made her stop."Not a lot, no." 

He nodded."Concussion.Stay here.I'll just get rid of him and then I'll be back for you." 

"Rid of him?What are you going to do with him?And what the fuck was he,anyways?" 

"I figure he can join the rest of himself in the river,the last victim of the 'slasher'.And he was a mistake,Spud;a big fucking mistake." 

"That doesn't help me." 

She heard him walking around doing something.She figured he was collecting body parts,so she didn't bother to look."He was supposed to be the ultimate killing machine.But he was too good at it,and they seemed shocked that when he went off the rails,they couldn't stop him." 

"So that's why they called in you." 

"Yeah." 

"Why'd he want my DNA?" 

"Huh?"He sounded startled by that. 

"He took my blood.He said he wanted my DNA." 

She heard him kick the wall again,probably to make the hole bigger,and heard several distant splashes.Logan had to be a hit man;absolutely none of this gore bothered him."He was bugfuck,Spud.A complete nutjob." 

"I know,but that's no answer,Logan.You're not tellin' me something." 

"Let it go,Srina." 

Okay,he used her real name.Now she knew it was bad."Tell me,goddamn it!This fucker almost killed me!" 

"I told you to go home." 

"Well,fuck you very much!I was trying to save your life,arsehole!" 

"Didn't need it." 

"Hell if you didn't,"she snapped bitterly.She felt well enough that she decided to risk standing up,or a least get off the bloody table.She wanted some answers;she deserved some answers,damn it. 

She let her left side slide off the table,and tried to stand,which turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life-well,up to this moment.All the contents of her head seemed to shift to one side,sending a pain beyond description ripping through her entire head,and her vision skidded over into complete,unrelenting red. 

'I really shouldn't have done that,'she thought,as she felt herself falling,and her vision went completely to black. 

** 

Camp Lejune Base-Now 

    "-there are several powerful demon entities that can only be contacted and bargained with through the means of blood sacrifice.We can do what you will not-"Control's processed voice droned on,as Bob continued to smile and shake his head.  
Morons.Complete and utter morons.Like they could control them;like demons that powerful and contemptuous of people played fair. 

"What would they say if you went up in smoke?"He sang quietly to himself,glancing around the control room.Yes,that hum was getting louder."What if I dug you up and made soup of your bones?" 

"We have no argument with you,"Control concluded finally."But if you persist,you will find us a formidable enemy.It doesn't have to be that way.Nobody wants a holy war,Drai'shajan." 

"You think you have a chance against me?"He scoffed aloud."Then why are you hiding behind Ressiks and videotape?Get your story straight and pick a side of your mouth to talk out of." 

The tape concluded,and the Ressik's ugly mug reappeared on screen."I take it that's your answer?" 

Obviously he heard his comments.He gave the demon a sour look."I can't believe they'd try and fuck me around like this. They've wasted both our time on a half-hearted bluff." 


	12. Part 12

The Ressik shrugged."He seemed seriously freaked out about the idea of you,if that's anything." 

"Hardly.The one good thing is he's probably signed his own death warrant." 

"What?The P.T.B. thing?" 

"What else?" 

"It's really a shame you didn't accept,you know." 

"Why?Because the place is about to self-destruct under my feet?" 

The Ressik's red eyes widened in genuine surprise."You knew?" 

Bob frowned at him."Of course I knew.I'm the Drai'shajan,remember?" 

"You got guts,I'll give you that.It was nice knowing you,pal." 

"Don't crack open the champagne just yet,"he advised,even as the world seemed to explode around him in a single violent burst of white light. 

    14 

London,England-1987 

    She knew something was wrong when she woke up in the hospital ,and the nurse called her the wrong name. 

Maybe it was the drugs,or the lingering effects of the concussion,but she felt a bit fuzzy in the brain.Still,she played along when the nurse called her Sheena.Her name,it seems,was believed to be Sheena Adams,and when they quizzed her about the "American man" who brought her in,she figured out why.Logan was trying to hide her identity;she assumed it was for a good reason. 

She constructed a story about being attacked while walking through Hyde Park with a Yank she met in a pub;she said his name was Morgan,and last thing she remembered was him fighting the thugs that attacked them.She was a very facile liar, being a career thief,and easily constructed a tall tale with enough details to keep the cops chasing their tails,and leave them scrambling to find Logan.She didn't think they would.Who could? 

What was that old poem?Something like:"One day coming down the stairs/I met a man who wasn't there."For some reason, that reminded her of him;he was a man who didn't technically exist,and wasn't technically anywhere,and the only evidence of his passage was possibly a corpse or two.He was a living ghost. 

She was okay;at least she could stand without passing out.Rather than argue with them about letting her go early,she simply went invisible and walked out the door. 

It was the afternoon of the next day,so she hadn't missed too much.But man was she pissed off at Logan;he had disappeared on her,and never answered her questions. 

It was after she had entered her flat and saw Logan's bloody leather jacket on her kitchen floor that she realized she might not have missed her chance after all. 

She followed the trail of bloody and torn clothes (his shirt was actually just a large rag now) to the bedroom,where she found him laying on the bed on top of the covers,face down and wearing nothing but boxer shorts.It looked like he had passed out, but fortuitously landed on the mattress. 

There was a brief moment of fear,when she thought he had come back here only to really and truly die,but as soon as she was close she could see he was breathing,and touching his broad back,she felt the normal warmth of his skin. 

He muttered something deep and unintelligible into the pillow. 

"What?"She asked.She took off her jacket and threw it on the chair,and then went around and laid down on the other side of the bed.She felt a lot better then last night,but her head still felt like it had a couple of layers of cotton wool jammed in there. 

"Are you supposed to be walkin' around,or did I really oversleep?"He asked,lifting his head off the pillow. 

"I'm okay.They fixed me,or whatever they do for a concussion.How are you doin'?" 

"Okay.I think I've recharged." 

"Good.Now,are you going to tell me what the fuck the whole Chimera deal was,and why I was Sheena Adams?" 

After a pause,he rolled over onto his back,the dog tags around his neck jingling as they shifted position and fell inside his left armpit."Because Srina Adar is dead." 

She wished that surprised her,and yet somehow it didn't."I see.How?" 

"Chimera killed you before I could stop him,"he told her,his voice still sounding thick with sleep.But his color was back to normal,and his skin was as envyingly flawless as always;there were no bruises,no scars,nothing to show that last night he'd been nearly eviscerated,crushed to death and drowned,and definitely impaled and bled out like a stuck pig."I dumped your body in the Thames,along with him.They found some of your blood at the scene;they have no reason to disbelieve me.Bodies get washed out into the North Sea all the time." 

It was chilling that he knew that with such certainty.She almost asked if a lot of bodies got dumped in the Thames,then decided she didn't want to know."I hate the name Sheena." 

He did something she had never seen before.He smiled,clearly trying not to laugh.He had a lovely smile.It was a shame he didn't do it more often."Give me a break-it was either that or Sheila.Somethin' that sounded enough like your name that you wouldn't instantly deny it." 

"Eew."No,that was no improvement at all. 

"You don't have to keep it.Just lay low for a couple of weeks,then go back to normal.They'll forget you.You were never a priority." 

"I was just a piece of ass to get rid of,"she said,repeating what that smarmy suited guy told Logan at their last meeting,in a cafe where Logan looked painfully out of place.She bumped a waiter-always in invisible mode-and sent a cup of hot tea falling right into smarmy guy's lap for that.Second degree burns of the scrotum was the least he deserved for that comment.Logan later said he knew she did it,but rather than scold her,he simply commented:"Nice timing."Well,yes,that was the tricky thing. The waiter had to be in the right spot,and bobble the cup just so. 

He gave her a sidelong glance that was almost playful."But what a nice ass." 

She gave him the faintest of smile."Sorry.No points for a save." 

"I tried." 

She nodded."You did.But since you're the one with the nice ass around here,it's hardly convincing.And don't think I didn't notice you haven't answered my first question." 

He sighed heavily,staring up at the ceiling,resting his right forearm across his brow.He looked awake now,almost...well,no, 'spritely' was not a term that could be used for Logan.Energetic would just have to do."You shouldn't know.The records have been erased,and they're probably fishing whatever bits of him they can out of the river.It'd be better if you didn't know." 

"Logan,I'm dead.Who am I going to tell?"She pointed out.He grunted in reluctant agreement."Now who was he,and what did he want with my blood?" 

She thought he still wasn't going to say,but after another sigh,he said,"He used to be a minor league Protean mutant named Warren.Did he look like a Warren to you?" 

"No.Protean?" 

"Shapeshifter.But not a good one.He could only hold a shape for a couple of minutes,and he couldn't really alter the dimensions of his height or weight.And that was a shame,'cause you saw what he looked like without a shape to shift into." 

"Fuck yeah.Ugly bugger.But was that it?I mean,he had claws,and your healing abilities,and he was stronger than you." 

"The 'Embassy' decided to try and genetically 'enhance' him,make him a better 'shifter,but while isolating the 'shifting gene, they thought they could isolate the specific genes in other mutant abilities.No,I should say two specific people-Wyeth and Turnbull-isolated the genes.They found a strength one from a guy who was a mountain of muscle;they found the fingernail claw one from a woman who could grow bony spikes all over her body like a porcupine...and they found the healing factor in me." 

"Did you-" 

But he anticipated her question,and didn't let her finish."No,I didn't volunteer.None of us volunteered.I found out about it after he went psycho and they called me in to hunt him down.They have a whole case file on me.Skin samples,blood samples...fuck ,even sperm samples.I don't wanna know how they got all of those." 

"What are they going to do with all that?" 

Logan shook his head.He was still staring up at the ceiling,but the look on his face had become pensive,with just a hint of anger visible in the tension along his jaw."I don't know.I'm not even supposed to know they have a biological catalog of me. But at least the guys who isolated my healing factor are dead,and their lab completely trashed." 

She was about to ask who did that,but then she realized it had probably been Warren:he had 'gone off the rails'.She snuggled up against him,resting her head on his lovely chest (he had muscles on his muscles),and he let her,his left arm snaking underneath her.She could hear his heart thudding away,as strong as ever.It was probably her imagination,but even his heart sounded stronger than most people's,a fist of muscle that strengthened his chest walls just by slamming up against it on a regular basis."Why enhance him so much?What was the point?" 

"Perfect killing machine.They apparently overlooked the fact that they could not only make him nuts,but nuts and completely embittered.He decided to hunt down and kill everyone who had anything to do with the Chimera project,and he was so much the ultimate killing machine they wanted,they couldn't stop him." 

"Until they brought you in." 

He nodded,idly stroking her back."The original killing machine."He said it flatly,like it had been drilled into his head by rote, but if it meant anything to him at all,it was something sour and tainted. 

She didn't know what to say.She had a feeling if she tried to comfort him,he'd resent it;and if she told him that wasn't true,he'd resent it even more so.Because it was a lie to deny it-a big fat obvious lie.Logan was very good at killing.Taking out Chimera had all but proved he was the best,hadn't it?The definition of a bittersweet victory.So she decide to simply stick to the topic at hand."He said something about giving him an 'improvement'.That's why he wanted my DNA:he wanted my invisibility gene." 

Logan nodded faintly,but he also scoffed."Stupid fuck.He'd never have gotten it,even if he did get someone to isolate it for him." 

"Why?Because he killed all the genetic engineers involved in the project?"She smoothed her hand over his chest,letting it rest on the flat of his stomach.Did he have any body fat at all?She could feel the rock hard muscles there,underneath a thin layer of abnormally soft skin.His body just didn't decay at all,did it?He couldn't get old and fat like most people;he was frozen in place.Place...time? 

Chimera kept referring to him as "old man",didn't he? 

If asked to guess,she would have pegged him at maybe twenty eight,thirty at the oldest.Was he older?Much older? 

She looked twenty five.She knew she wasn't.And it wasn't that she didn't age,it was just the use of her invisibility gene seemed to slow it down,as if time couldn't see her either. 

But Logan healed so fast-had time ever seen him at all? 

"No,'cause of my healing factor.They gave it to him last,'cause after that his body rejected all other genes given to him.It was exactly why they could never enhance me:my body won't allow it." 

She suddenly felt very cold inside."They tried to enhance you?" 

He simply grunted a wordless acknowledgment."Didn't work,at least not gene wise.For scientists,they were pretty dumb." 

Srina didn't dare ask if he volunteered for it,because she knew the answer to that.She was also afraid to ask what he meant by "gene wise".Did they do other things to him that took? 

(Since when was adamantium a naturally occurring metal?) 

"Don't go back,"she blurted,not quite believing she said it even as it fell out of her mouth."I can help you disappear.Literally,in fact." 

His fingertips idly stroked the nape of her neck,a caress that always sent goose pimples down her spine (and a bit of a shiver, if she thought about the claws that popped out of those same fingers)."I can't,Sri." 

Not Spud.He was dead serious."I don't know what they've done to you,Logan,but-" 

He didn't let her finish."They took my memories.I want them back." 

She raised her head to look at him.He was still serious."How did they take your memories?" 

"I don't know.But I want answers,and I'm gonna get 'em." 

"How?" 

There was a pretty good sized pause before he admitted,"I don't know.But I have to try and find a way to get them.I want my life back." 

"If they wanted you to have it,they wouldn't have taken it,"she replied,resting her head back down on his chest."You're asking to get killed.Or worse,if that's possible." 

"It is,"he said,with great assurance.That was even more chilling."But I have to try.I know...I'm missing so much.I used to want an explanation,now I don't give a fuck.I just want to know who I am." 

Oh god,that was so fucking sad.She was not an emotional type (well,she didn't think so),but that made her both sorry for him as well as angry.What could he have done to deserve being treated like this?And how did someone get their memories taken away?What was the point of that? 

Compliance,perhaps.Leave him so bewildered and disoriented he honestly believed these people were all he had.Leave him with absolutely no place else to go. 

Now,she was paranoid;she would freely admit that.As a professional thief,it was part of the job,helped keep you in business. But she had finally come to an important conclusion."You're not C.I.A.,are you?Or NSA."Maybe she'd read too many pulp thrillers,but she thought those were the shadowiest of organization,with the latter being the biggest bad of them all. 

"You've never heard of my group.Be glad." 

She was.Very much so. 

He knew he had said too much.He cleared his throat nervously,and said,"I gotta get goin' soon.They'll be flyin' me out tonight." 

"To where?" 

"I don't know.And you shouldn't." 

"Or you'd have to kill me?Again?" 

"Something like that." 

She looked up at him to see he was giving her a sad smile.She'd never see him again,she already knew that,but now she was wondering if he was even going to live until tomorrow.He was playing a dangerous game with dangerous people,and he didn't seem to care,because he seemed to think he would win in the end.Didn't he always?And now that they had taken his memories away,what did he have to lose?"Don't get killed,"she said,and she meant it,although it seemed like an odd good bye. 

"I'll do my best,"he promised. 

She moved up his chest and kissed him.His mouth still tasted like blood,but she didn't honestly care,which seemed startling in retrospect.Maybe she was hoping some of his overwhelming immunity would transfer to her.Maybe she could get caught up in the same bubble of anti-time as he was. 

His stubble scraped the skin on her face,which felt abused enough as it was,but she didn't mind,because it would be the last time.She moved on top of him,hands sliding over soft,unblemished skin and the hard body beneath it all,and wondered if anyone would ever remember him. 

Maybe she would be the only one to remember the man who didn't exist at all. 

** 

London,England-Now 

    By the time she got to the part where he was stabbed in the throat and she was paralyzed,she started crying. 

Srina tried very hard not to,but he could see the tears welling in her violet eyes,and they began slowly but surely spilling down her cheeks. 

"Ah fuck,"she cursed,angrily wiping the tears away with her hand."I'm not a crier,I'm not,but that night was such a fucking nightmare.You know,I haven't thought about it since it happened.I think I put a mental block around it.I probably need therapy or something." 

He hated women crying,because he never knew what to do and felt so goddamn awkward,but he slid his chair around the table and tentatively put an arm around her shoulders."It's okay,"he said,which sounded painfully lame even to him.But at least she had confirmed he had not killed those people in the nightclub. 

To his surprise,she turned into him,burying her face in his neck."I'm sorry,Logan." 

"No,I'm sorry,"he said,stroking her hair,and he meant it.Anybody who got pulled into his orbit got hurt;there was just no way around it.At least she had lived to tell this tale,though.That was more than most people who knew him could say. 

And here he had not quite trusted her.But the only reason she had been hedging and not being completely truthful was simply because she found it too painful to talk about. 

She finished the rest of the story with her head on his shoulder,her voice a low whisper that seemed to help her tell the tale without bursting into further tears,although he did feel an occasional tear slide down his neck,under his shirt. 

"I killed him.But you think he's in the containment chamber,don't you?" 

"I don't know.Seems like a hell of a coincidence,doesn't it?" 

"Yeah,it does." 

"Why would they keep that monstrosity intact?I can't believe he's still alive.You diced him like you were a sushi chef,and he was fugu." 

He had to consider that for a moment,unusual metaphor aside."Some mutants are capable of extremely inhuman things.But maybe they're just keeping his tissue viable." 

"What do you mean?" 

He didn't know how much to say,but she was in for a penny,so why not in for a pound?"My blood...my blood doesn't go bad. Or at least someone told me that."Bob,and he didn't see why he'd lie about that."So maybe the tissue was still viable when they pulled it out of the river.They put it in the containment chamber to make sure it stayed that way." 

"For what purpose?" 

He had to think about that for a moment,and he realized the key was in something she said."A biological catalog." 

"What?" 

"Maybe they plan to...resurrect him someday,clone him." 

She sat up,pulling away from him."What?He was a fucking psycho,Logan.He even started killing them." 

"I know.But maybe they think they can fix that problem the next time around,or at least control him."Certainly they thought that about him,didn't they? 

"We can't let them bring him back,"she insisted.Here eyes were rimmed red,but now bright with a resurgent anger. 

He nodded."I know.We ain't gonna let them." 

She eyed him curiously."Do you have a plan?" 

"Not yet,"he admitted."But I'm pretty good at making them up as I go along." 

Or at least he hoped he was.He supposed they were both about to find out. 

    15 

Camp Lejune Base-Now 

    They were patrolling the outer perimeter of the woods when the base exploded. 

It was like the world ended.The sound was too great to hear,but they felt it,a massive body blow that seemed to turn their internal organs to jelly. 

Scott tackled Jean and threw her to the snow,trying to protect her with his body as the secondary shockwave expanded through the forest,knocking down trees like bowling pins.They were far back enough that,while branches pelted down around them like arrows shot down from the heaven,nothing bigger even came close to them. 

For a long moment she heard nothing but a roaring white noise,and she wondered if she (they) were deaf,but then she heard the soft noises of debris as they hit the snow and forest canopy surrounding them and decided it had only been a temporary shock to the eardrums. 

Scott got up as soon as it looked like the worst was over,and gave her a hand up as he looked at the fallen trees around them, and the big,gaping crater where the base used to be. 

"Bob,"she said in horror,looking at Scott.He looked unusually ashen,and not only due to the cold. 

Had they just let Bob go off to his death? 

They picked their way carefully through the fallen,stripped trees and smoldering debris to where the base had been.The explosion was so great that the base hadn't exploded more than it had vaporized;even the surrounding crags of rock had been pulverized. 

She was looking for blood and body parts when she noticed something in the cloud of dust sifting down where the base had once stood. 

It was Bob,walking towards them,hand in his pockets,not a hair out of place.In fact,it didn't look like the dust had settled on him at all,even as he walked through it. 

Scott's jaw dropped open in amazement,and all he managed to stammer was,"How-" 

Bob just shrugged,as if he simply sidestepped a slow moving car."I just zipped into another dimension and came back after the fireworks were over.You guys okay?" 

"We're fine,"she said,just as disbelieving as Scott."You can just zip between dimensions,just like that?" 

He nodded,now finally coughing as some of the dust irritated his sinuses."Easier than fallin' out of bed." 

"Why did you go in there anyways?"Scott asked,finally finding his voice. 

"Just to make sure there was no one unconscious in there.And to see what kind of trap they'd left." 

"You knew it was a trap and you went in there?"The disbelief in Scott's voice was so palpable she was afraid he was going to offend Bob. 

But Bob seemed to be completely beyond offense."Oh yeah.The suspense of not knowin' woulda killed me." 

Jean wasn't sure if he was serious or not.It was so hard to tell."What was the trap?" 

"An attempt to buy me off."Bob gave them a Cheshire Cat grin,all teeth and confidence."Ain't that the funniest thing you've heard in the last five minutes?" 

She just stared at him.He was more than just inhuman;something about Bob just wasn't right. 

(As her mother used to say:"The boy's a bit touched."But Bob wasn't so much 'touched' as full on walloped.) 

"Buy you off with what?"Scott asked.She could hear the doubt in his voice."Money?And what were you supposed to do in return?Hand us over to them?" 

Bob's smile somehow became wider,which seemed impossible."Nothin' that prosaic,Scott.They want me to go away and leave them alone,even if it meant selling their souls-and the world-to do it.Gotta give 'em props for balls and sheer stupidity there." 

Scott looked even more confused than she felt."I don't understand." 

Bob shook his head."It's nothing to worry about.I'd say tryin' to kill me pretty much says a lot about their sincerity.Come on, let's go home." 

Poor Scott.He looked dumbstruck and disbelieving,ready to either shoot someone or simply sit down and cry.So much had happened in such a short time,and little of it made coherent,logical sense.She slipped her hand in his and gave it a little reassuring squeeze,letting him know she was just as puzzled and overwhelmed as he was.Being with Bob was like being in Wonderland,only with no White Rabbit to lead them through it.Logan could probably stand it better than most because his life was already a twisted maze where very little made sense;Bob was just another impossibility before breakfast. 

"Home,"Scott said finally,and she could see a certain trepidation in his expression."New York.God,what have I done?" 

"Nothing,"Bob said."You're as much of a victim here as anyone else.Don't forget that." 

Jean wasn't sure,but had Bob pushed him?She wasn't sure if that was a bad thing if he had. 

No,it was.It wasn't up to him to speed along Scott's healing process,no matter how good his intentions.She would have told him that too,except the world seemed to tilt on its axis,and in the blink of an eye they were in a wood paneled hallway that looked very familiar:the Mansion.After the cold of the Rockies,it seemed almost unbearably hot in here. 

"Hoo doggies,we are home!"Bob announced exuberantly,briefly assuming a fake Texas accent."Break open the steak sauce and lock up the sheep!"He started brushing snow and ash off the legs of his jeans as he walked down the corridor,not even bothering to look back and see if they were following him. 

They weren't.Scott just looked at her,and after a final glance towards Bob,asked her,"Are we sure he's sane?" 

She could only shrug and shake her head.Although frankly,if he was perfectly sane,he'd probably be more of a problem than he already was. 

** 

London,England-Now 

    Henson looked through the binoculars and scanned the surrounding area,hoping for something interesting to happen.Even a stray dog to shoot would have been nice. 

What the fuck were they supposed to be protecting anyways?He was new around here,and no one told him much of anything. All he knew was someone had broken into that factory,and the boss seemed to think it wasn't vandals,or at least not run of the mill vandals.They cut through adamantium,right? 

The only problem was it was a cold night,really damp,misting rain;it wasn't even a proper rain,just the sort of piddling drips that soaked you to the bone faster and far worse than a full on downpour could.And these 'night vision' binoculars were starting to give him a headache.It might not have been so bad if he could have a cigarette,but his fucking lighter wouldn't work, and his cigarettes got sodden in under a minute,the thin paper cracking and tobacco oozing out in a disgusting brown clump.  
Shit.He hated London;he really and truly did. 

Maybe it was due to his high vantage point-he was on the roof of a building nearest the factory,some sort of fish processing plant,judging by the reek-but as far as he could tell,nothing ever happened here,in what he thought of as the arse end of London.And now his leg was falling asleep,he was as wet as a drowned cat,and he was barely an hour into his watch.This was so going to suck. 

He was wondering if he could use the radio to ask someone to smuggle him up a beer when he suddenly realized the radio had been abnormally quiet.For what,two minutes now? 

Not that it was noisy.They were technically on 'silent running',so to speak;covert stakeout.But every now and then there was a minute click in his earpiece,a small hum of a frequency shift,just enough to let everyone know you were still here,and your position was clear. 

So where was everyone?Had they grown bored of the Morse code version of checking in? 

He tapped his earpiece radio to make sure the rain hadn't shorted it out.It was supposed to be waterproof to a depth of twenty feet,but could anyone prove that? 

It seemed to be working,so he looked through the binoculars,scanning the area once more. 

Nothing.As always.Maybe other people were losing their radios due to the weather."Eagle One,check in,"he said quietly into his throat mike. 

Nothing there either."Any Eagle who can hear me,respond."Eagle team was everyone on the ground around the factory, cannery,whatever the fuck it was. 

He got a bad feeling in his gut when absolutely no one answered."Falcon,do you copy?" 

He was ready to start retreating when finally Falcon replied."Yeah,Osprey,what is it?" 

How come,of all the cool bird code names,he got Osprey?That was so lame."Eagle isn't responding." 

"All of them?"He sounded like he didn't believe him. 

"Yes,all of them.Unless they're playing a practical joke on me." 

There was a long pause.If it was a joke,they hadn't let Falcon in on it."See anything?" 

"No.All's clear." 

Another pause,shorter this time."I'll check it out." 

He was on the outer perimeter,on the ground but farther out from the site than Eagle team.As Falcon moved in,he looked through his binoculars once more,searching for that invisible nothing again.He had begun to lower the binocs when he noticed something really odd out of the corner of his eye.The door to the cannery was opening...but there was no one there. 

He heard the frequency on his earpiece switch to master channel before Falcon said,"Code ten,code seventeen,Eagle's point." 

It took him a moment,but he remembered a code ten was a call for immediate medical assistance;a code seventeen was a call for immediate back up.He switched back to direct channel before saying,"No one got past me.I didn't hear anything." 

"I didn't see anything,"Henson agreed,somewhat defensively."How could someone take out an entire squad without us hearing or seeing a fucking thing?" 

"I don't know,"Falcon said,and then there was a brief pause."I just saw the door open again.There's no one there." 

"What,do we have ghosts?" 

"Maybe a telekinetic,"Falcon offered lamely. 

"Why would a t.k. open a door?"He asked irately."And where the fuck is their heat signature?They don't even appear on infrared." 

Falcon was silent for a moment."I swear I hear footsteps.Are you sure you don't see anything?" 

He was checking once more when the factory exploded in a fireball so bright he screamed as all the infrared sensors in his binoculars fuzzed out to a neon red brighter and hotter than lava. 

He dropped his binoculars and clamped his hands to his eyes,too late to do anything,as he heard Falcon exclaim,"Holy fuck!" The sound of the burning building in the background was as loud as the roar of a tidal wave,the pops and cracks of the wood as loud as gunshots. 

After a minute,Henson dared to pull his hands away from his face,and try to see if he was blind.With great relief,he found he wasn't,but he couldn't see all that well.His vision was swamped with black and green afterimages,and he could barely make out anything except for the inferno that was the factory now.It was completely engulfed,the red orange flames reaching high into the sky,lighting up the area like a false dawn."How the fuck did it go up so fast?"He shouted,trying to blink the afterimages away.But they hung in there like they were never going to leave. 

"Incendiary bomb,"Falcon said,sounding slightly breathless with panic. 

"Can the package be saved?"He had no idea what 'the package' was;it was simply the code name of whatever was inside there. 

"Fuck you,the package is a crispy critter!"Falcon snapped.He then added,needlessly,"Colonel Patterson is going to kill us. This is all fubar." 

Henson didn't say anything.He was too busy trying to figure out how to make sure Falcon took the fall for this all by himself. And he knew damn well Falcon was thinking the same thing about him. 

** 

    Logan wasn't surprised to find that while most of the morning papers mentioned the 'dock fire' at the abandoned cannery,it was relegated to the back pages,a small blurb,with no mention of para-military involvement whatsoever.He was surprised to find they admitted arson was suspected,but quickly blamed it on "transient squatters". 

Oh sure.Transients were famous for putting together incendiary bombs full of napalm and jet fuel. 

"Oh,look at this,"Srina said,holding out the paper she was looking at."This woman skipped the traditional breast implants and just went ahead and stuffed cantaloupes in there." 

He couldn't help but smirk even as he glanced at the picture of the 'Page Three' girl she was holding out.An artificially cheerful woman who apparently forgot to put her top on,even though her blonde (dyed to the consistency of straw) hair was piled artfully atop her head in a sort of new wave top knot."Okay,that's just disturbing,"he admitted,his smirk transforming into a scowl. 

"What?That her tits are each bigger than her head?"Srina asked,taking the paper back. 

"That,and the surgeons put her nipples back on wrong.They're high centered and slightly askew." 

Srina looked for herself."Eew,you're right."She then gave him a sly grin."Trust a man to study breasts in such great detail." 

"Hey,you showed it to me,"he pointed out,stealing the last spring roll. 

They were having breakfast in her bedroom,but not in bed,as that was so fucking corny.Also,they were busy. 

Srina had a computer on a side table in her bedroom,and she was surfing the web,trying to find out if anyone had anything else on the cannery fire.The oaken table was large enough to fit breakfast on it near the end,although breakfast was really just reheated Chinese food,beer,and (in Srina's case) a triple mocha latte made on her own machine,which sounded like it was going to explode at any second.She said that was its normal noise:like an old Jaguar with no muffler and sticky brakes. 


	13. Part 13

Frankly,it was refreshing to know a woman who thought lo mein noodles,Mongolian beef,and curried rice was a perfectly acceptable breakfast.And she didn't care if he drank beer at this time of the morning;she knew he didn't get drunk,ever. 

He had to get a kitchen chair from the other room,though,because she only had the one desk chair for her computer,and he was sitting to her left,eating and scanning the papers while she searched online,and occasionally looked at the paper for embarrassing things unrelated to the fire,such as half naked women and stories about remarkably stupid people.So far,she had found more idiotic criminals than anything about the blaze. 

"You're sure he's dead,right?"She asked,not for the first time."I mean,he couldn't possibly come back from a napalm enema, could he?" 

"I couldn't,"he told her,between bites."And if I couldn't,Chimera couldn't.End of story.He's toast."Of course,he assumed he wouldn't survive decapitation and dismemberment,or at least he damn well hoped not.But that would be quite a trick with his adamantium skeleton in the way. 

"Lovely,"she said,taking a sip of her homemade latte.After she set it aside,she stole the last bite of his spring roll,plucking it right off his plate."We make a great team,don't we?I'm the brains,you're the brawn.And the bomb maker." 

He arched an eyebrow at her skeptically,but after a moment,admitted,"You did good,Spud." 

Her violet eyes widened in surprise,and she smiled warmly."I can't believe I ever missed that." 

"Me either." 

She winked at him as she popped the last bit of spring roll in her mouth,and went back to surfing the web.After a moment of chewing,she asked,"Did you know you have a fan club?" 

His eyebrow remained in its raised position,roughly half mast."Really?"This was a joke he didn't get. 

Her smile became even slyer than before."I'm not kidding,I'm absolutely serious.Remember how I told you I saw some bootlegged security cam footage from the Statue of Liberty?" 

"Yeah."He had a sudden bad feeling about this. 

"Well,it hit the internet.What doesn't?Although,ironically,it first showed up on a radical anti-mutant site called 'No World Order'." 

"What does that mean?" 

"I have no idea.But it got jacked from there and started showing up all over the place,and even though there were no really clear shots of you-you and your damn camera avoiding-among the mutant lusters you became one of their hunky poster boys." 

This had to be a joke.He didn't know where to begin."Mutant lusters?" 

"You know,normals who really want to have hot monkey love with a mutant.Apparently a slightly blurry shot of your profile was enough to get their hearts a-thumpin'.See?"She pushed her chair back slightly,so he could have a better look at the computer screen.Leaning in curiously,he saw a slightly pixilated profile of him in a dark place (which had to be somewhere in the Statue,like she'd said,because it looked like he was wearing that goofy uniform) in the center of a black background,decorated with what looked like silver slash marks around the border.And up above,in some gothic,bloody red font,it read:"Welcome to the Claw Luvvers Homepage". 

He felt slightly numb with horror."This is a joke,right?You made this,didn't you?" 

She laughed,clearly relishing his shock."I did not!I don't have that much free time.Wait'll you meet the keepers of this page-they have their own egroup."She clicked the mouse on something,maybe the picture;he was no longer paying attention. 

He sat back,shaking his head.This had to be a joke."No  thanks." 

"Too late,"she announced,and gave him a big cheesy grin. 

He frowned at her,knowing if he didn't look she'd tease him about being a coward.So he looked,and instantly wished he hadn't. "This is a  fucking joke." 

She laughed uproariously at his consternation."Nope.These women-and a couple guys-love you,Claude." 

"Claude?" 

"They don't know your name,so they gave you one.Clawed,get it?" 

The more he scowled,the more she laughed.She was enjoying this."Yeah,I got it.If you didn't make this up,how'd you know about it?" 

"The mutant underground exists on line as much as anywhere else.And we like to view these kinds of sites with scorn and derision.I mean,these are people who,if they can't be mutants,want to fuck the next best thing.Come on!" 

The online 'handles' of these people were unbelievable.Who in their right mind named themselves 'Socksnnoses',and what the hell was that supposed to mean anyways?Or 'Cakk'?'Nohands'?At least 'mutieluvver' and 'Clawsforme' were self-explanatory. 

Looking at the 'picture gallery',he pointed out a pretty strange (and homely) photo,that supposedly belonged to the one calling herself 'Cakk' (now there was a horrible name if he'd ever heard one),and said,"She's not a normal.Look at her." 

That made Srina really laugh.Once she had calmed down enough to speak,she replied,"Logan,that's the list moderator in her Klingon uniform." 

He looked closer,and saw she was right.Srina was laughing so hard she was flushing a rather unhealthy shade of purple tinged brown.Oh god,this was so fucking sad.He felt humiliated,although he wasn't sure if it was for himself,these people,or both. 

"I hear once you go Klingon,you never go back,"Srina stammered,before bursting out laughing again. 

He felt his own face flush,probably from anger,but at this point he wasn't sure."I'm glad you're enjoying yourself.Can we please move on?" 

She wiped the tears of laughter away from her face with the back of  her hand,and managed to start breathing almost normally again."Sure.Want to go to the fanfic section?" 

"What?" 

"Or no,first you have to see the bios.They ask what they would do to you if they met you.The Klingon wants to cover you in pie filling,while this other one is obsessed with your socks-" 

"My socks?"He repeated in disbelief,which just made her laugh harder.He shook his head and got up."Okay,that's it,I need another beer."It was just a great excuse to leave the room. 

"Wait,this one wants to tie you down with leather straps because you're a 'naughty boy',"she said between laughs,her voice following him into the kitchen."And this other one wants to blow you until you can't walk straight." 

He paused as he opened the fridge,but then he dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.She was probably a Klingon too.  
"Where's your fan club?"He shouted,cracking open a can. 

Once she was through with her giggling fit,she said,"I'm a thief,love,remember?Not a hero." 

"I'm not a hero either,"he snapped,that comment making him angrier than her derisive howls about his 'fans'. 

She waited until he came back to the bedroom before she responded to that,her laughing jag well and truly over (at least for now). "Of course you are.You've always been the hero type,even when you were a hit man,or whatever you were." 

It was actually an act of will not to sneer at her."Why do you say that?" 

Srina gave him a look like he was threatening to try her patience."Because you never wanted to hurt people who weren't askin' for it.I mean,I'm not saying you don't like to kick ass,'cause obviously you do-you're extremely good at it.But you don't go around randomly smashing heads:you have a conscience,some sense of justice.You're not a bully or a complete psychopath.Isn't that why they wanted to replace you with Chimera in the first place?" 

For a long moment he just stared at her,as what she had said had hit him like a cannonball right between the eyes.He sat down heavily in his chair,and asked,"Did I say they made Chimera to replace me?" 

Her expression softened,as if only now she realized she had dropped a bombshell."No,but you didn't have to.I kinda figured that out for myself." 

Only when he realized he was starting to grip the beer can so hard it was on the verge of collapsing did he put it on the table. "They wanted to replace me?But,I thought...."His thought petered out.He didn't know what he was thinking.He was their brainwashed little robot?The perfect killing machine? 

She moved her chair closer to him,close enough that she was able to reach out and take one of his hands.When he looked up at her,she met his eyes,and he saw a kindness in them that he didn't think he needed or deserved."I got one more story I never mentioned.The night I let you pick me up at that pub,when we were walking back to my place,there was this group of kids tryin' to roll a homeless guy in an alley just a half block from the pub.When you heard what was going on,you told me to wait for you, then went back to the alley and basically just threw those five kids around like they were bags of trash.I heard you ask one of them:"What?You couldn't find a little kid to shake down for lunch money?"You beat the shit out of them,and then you came back, all in the space of two minutes,because five against you is still really bad odds for the other side,isn't it?But once I got to know more about you,that little incident didn't make sense to me.Why help that man?You're a hit man,for Christ's sake.So some kids wanna roll a wino for some kicks,why would you care?Why would you,Logan?" 

It wasn't a rhetorical question;she wanted an answer.He could only shake his head."I don't know." 

"I don't know either.But my guess is you don't like seeing people bullied.You don't like innocent people getting hurt.Which is why those fuckin' wankers wanted to replace you with someone who got their jollies off killing anything that moved;someone who wouldn't fight them every step of the way."She leaned closer,resting her other hand on his knee."You told me the brainwashing never took for long.Do you really think it all gave way at once?Or was it more like a slow collapse,one brick falling out of the wall,and then another?When I met you fifteen years ago,Logan,you were almost the man you are now.You were in there fighting to get out.If you weren't,I have no doubt I'd be dead.I fear you stuck your neck out to save me,and I owe you for that." 

"No,you don't."he said,feeling swamped with too much information.But why?Was there anything new there? 

Maybe.Maybe he wasn't always their complete puppet...but he worked for them anyways? 

What else could he do?He was a man with no name and no past,a mutant only good for killing.Because that's what he did;that was his 'gift'. 

"I never got what I wanted from them,"he told her,and he didn't know why. 

She nodded,her eyes clear and sad."I know.But you're free.That's something." 

"I'm not free,"he snapped,feeling an unexpected surge of bitterness."I won't be free until they're dead or I am." 

Srina gave him a soft kiss on the forehead,which surprised him only because it seemed out of place."You are a pigheaded bastard, Logan,"she said,resting her forehead against his."Eventually,they will give up on you,because they will tire of constantly losing an expensive battle.The law of diminishing returns." 

"Or they will find their perfect killing machine,making me redundant,"he agreed,but it still felt like wishful thinking.Not that they couldn't come up with a better killer than him;he had a sinking feeling they could,quite easily.What he was afraid of is that they wouldn't give up,not because he was so valuable to them,but because at some point this had become personal:a contest of wills between him and this behemoth entity,and they were determined not to lose,no matter the cost.Because no one 'left' them.  
The more he thought about it,it was like some bad relationship that one person refused to let go of until they could have the absolute final word."But I still don't have my life back,"he pointed out,more resigned to it than disappointed.He hadn't had one for so long,he was getting used to it. 

"It would sound flippant and insensitive to say 'make a new one',wouldn't it?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okay,pretend I didn't say that.But still keep it in mind." 

He glared at her,but in truth he could not be that angry with her.She had a point,and she was one of those rare things-a person who used to know him.Admittedly,he was under the control of those people then (well,sort of),but she was still an oddity just for knowing more about him than he did. 

She sat back,removing her hands,and said,"I know.It's not that easy,blah blah blah,but you have more of a chance than you did. You have to admit that.You even have people who want you in their lives." 

"Where?" 

She pointed at the computer screen."Well,these people aside,what about those other people on the security tape?Or were you fighting all of them?" 

He shifted uncomfortably,not liking where this conversation was heading."No.But I just sorta ended up with them.They don't want me around,trust me." 

"They told you that?" 

"They didn't have to." 

"Ah,sorry,I already used that one.Think up a new excuse or lose two points." 

"I'm serious,Spud." 

"So am I."She studied him a moment."You don't like them?" 

"Not all of them,no,but that's not it.I don't belong with them.They're so squeaky clean it's like they live in a different universe. They have no idea what it's really like out in the real world,where you don't have a telepath with money to hide behind.They don't know how ugly it's getting,how much the normals hate us." 

"Which is why they need you around.Someone has to show them how to cope with the real world before it smashes them over the head." 

He scoffed."Someone to do the dirty work.Yeah,great,I'm used again." 

"You're not gettin' something out of it?" 

He looked at her curiously."Like what?" 

"I don't know.You tell me." 

He was going to tell her there was nothing,but that wouldn't be fair to her,and she'd know better than to accept it anyways.After a moment,he admitted,"I have a place I can always go back to."A safe place.At least so far. 

She nodded."A novelty for you." 

He shrugged."Recently,yeah." 

"So what are you doin' hangin' around here,Logan?Go home."She said it gently,with a hint of a melancholy smile. 

"You kickin' me to the curb?" 

"No.I'm just beating you to the punch.Any minute you were going to tell me you had a flight to catch,I just know it." 

He almost told her he didn't,because he didn't fly in:he was teleported in,and he really had no idea how he was getting back.But then he realized how insane that sounded,and thought better of it."You psychic now?" 

"Only in the way all women are.You men are so predictable."She gave him a wink as she turned back to her computer."So are you gonna leave me a number or an email address,or are you just going to disappear and never darken my towels again?" 

He knew the less she associated with him,the better;she was lucky to still be alive.Although maybe luck had nothing to do with it.  
Her ability,combined with her natural wits,had probably kept her in one piece more than happenstance.He had to give her some credit as the survivor she was."I don't have a number or an email address." 

"Liar.I saw the cell phone." 

"It's not mine.I don't even know the number." 

"Have you joined the twenty first century at all?" 

"Hey.I...I've been busy." 

She searched around the computer a moment,looking for something."You know,next time I go to the store,I need to remember to lift some Post-It Notes.Here."She hastily wrote something on the back of a business card,with a pen with some bank's name on the barrel. 

"Do you ever just,you know,buy something?" 

"Oh sure,"she lied,handing him the card."Does this place you go back to have a phone number?" 

He glanced at the card.On the opposite side,it was a reminder for a dentist appointment last winter;what she had written on the blank side was her phone number,and what he presumed was her email address."Ghostcat?"He read with some amusement., before he tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans. 

"I am the burglar who tries not be seen.A ghost cat.Especially since nightshade and invisiblegal were taken.So?Number?Make one up if you must." 

He dug through his coat pockets until he finally found one of the cards for Xavier's school."I guess you could always call ,leave a message for me if you had to.I'm not always there." 

She looked at it,amusement evident on her face."A school for the gifted?" 

"It's a code for 'mutants'." 

"Ah.I assume adults are included too."He simply grunted an assent.With a twinkle in her eye,she asked,"So are you a teacher?" 

"Hell no.What would I teach?Dismemberment one-oh-one?"Okay,technically he had taught the kids a bit of self-defense,and how to use their powers to defend themselves,but that was just real world knowledge and common sense in a place that sorely needed it.It didn't make him a teacher. 

"Hey,why not?It'd bring the Goth kids."She put the card aside,to the right of her keyboard,its near corner holding it down. 

Hesitantly (but only because he was a little embarrassed),he said,"You know,if  you ever need a place to go,you're welcome there.You could come with me,if you wanted." 

She shook her head,although she smiled kindly at him."What,and give up show business?Thanks,it's nice to know anyways.If I ever did crash there,would they make me give up the five finger discounts?" 

He shrugged."Probably." 

"See?I'd make a bad good guy." 

"No,I think you make an interesting one."He gave her a warm smile,which she returned in kind.He felt comfortable with her,and perhaps this was why.As much as someone like Scott wanted a black and white world of good guys and bad guys,the truth was almost always in the middle,a grey zone where the good weren't always that good,and the bad weren't always that bad.He and Srina were lodged firmly in that strata,and probably always would be.And he didn't think he'd have it any other way. 

"Maybe I'd better get goin',"he finally said.The sooner the better.If the Organization suspected he was in London,he didn't want them to find him within a radius of her.He supposed,since he doubted he had money for a plane ticket anyways (and surely the airports weren't safe,not for him),he was going to have to break down and call Bob for a 'lift'.Or a beam out,or whatever the fuck it was that actually happened.It made travel easier,sure,but it was bewildering. 

And he could feel a certain inertia starting to set in.He didn't think staying here with Srina would be so bad,hearing her tell him little bits of minutia about the man he used to be,all contingent on whether or not she'd have him,of course.He thought she might,at least for a little while.But he could not shake the feeling that the longer he stayed,the more dangerous things would become for both of them.He didn't mind facing danger on his own;he did it a lot.But he would not risk her,not again. 

"I expect at least an email from you soon,okay?Let me know you're okay,and I'll let you know if there's any suspicious fallout from all this crap." 

He was going to ask her how he was supposed to email her when he didn't have a computer,but the school did.Even Bob did.It wouldn't be that hard to borrow someone's computer for a little while.He nodded,getting back to his feet,wondering whether he should call Bob.What time was it in L.A. now?"Sure.Thanks,Sri."When she looked at him curiously,he made a vague hand gesture that made him wonder what the hell he meant.Why were goodbyes so fucking awkward?"For everything,"he elaborated, although it still sounded weak. 

Her smile remained kind and forgiving,and he suddenly wondered how old she really was:something in her eyes suggested she had seen and experienced more than he'd ever remember."Take care of yourself,Logan.Don't be a stranger.And don't give up, either.Although I think you're biologically inclined not to do that." 

He shrugged-it was a sort of agreement-when she reached up,grabbed a handful of his shirt,and pulled him down for a kiss.The combined taste of beer and mocha latte was a really interesting one,and as good a kisser as she was,he didn't think he'd be having that mocha beer anytime soon.The comical face she made as they separated seemed to confirm she felt the same way. 

"And I heard chocolate beer tastes good,"she said,continuing to smile. 

"Don't believe everything you read,"he suggested with a smirk. 

He was headed out the door when she said,"Oh Logan,maybe you should leave your socks.It'd give socksnnoses a thrill." 

He scowled at her,and she just laughed,still getting a kick out of it.He left her laughing,and figured that was probably the best goodbye he could hope for. 

He was half way down the stairs,leading to the bookstore and then out,when it occurred to him it might be best for her-and everyone-if he was not seen leaving the building.He doubted there were snoops in this part of London,but did you ever know for sure? 

He sat down on the third step from the bottom,and pulled out the cell phone Bob had given him.Bob picked up on the third ring. 

"Speak...to...me!"He cried in a hammy,over the top fashion before chuckling.Logan could hear the rock music in the background. 

"You can't answer a phone like a normal person,can you?"He asked,rubbing his eyes.Amaranth was right-he was a spaz. 

"Hey hey,Logan!I was beginning to wonder if you were dead." 

"You wouldn't know?" 

"Of course I would.But humor me here." 

"No." 

"Ah,you're no fun anymore.So how's London?" 

"Foggy,crowded,infested with pigeons." 

"Same old,same old,"Bob commiserated."Need some help?" 

"Only to get back." 

"Are you giving up?Or did you actually find something?" 

He didn't really want to discuss it over a cell phone-the signal could be easily intercepted-but then he remembered this was Bob's phone.He probably put some kind of whammy on it,so any eavesdroppers would just hear pigeon Swahili with a touch of Esperanto."I found something.I'm done." 

"You're not responsible for Hell."It was not a question. 

"I know.Can you just...zap me out of here or whatever?" 

"Say the magic words,"Bob replied cheerfully. 

"Or I'll hunt you down and kill you." 

"Nope,that's not right,"Bob replied,even more cheerful then before.But then everything around him shifted,the stairwell seemed to tilt,and suddenly he found himself sitting on his bed in the Mansion,Bob leaning against his dresser with a cell phone wedged between his ear and shoulder."Luckily,I'm not picky,"Bob told him,folding up his phone and shoving it back in his pants pocket. 

Logan sighed,hitting the power button on his cell and tossing it towards Bob.He caught it easily."You live to be difficult,don't you?" 

"I call it 'differently perspected',"he replied,putting Logan's phone in his other pocket.No leather pants today:although he still had the biker boots on,he was wearing dark green cargo pants,and a black t-shirt that read,in big white letters across the front:'Just assume I know everything.' 

"You warn people now?" 

Bob glanced down at it,then grinned at him,flashy all his pearly whites."I have about a dozen of these shirts,all from the grandkids.I think they believe they're doing a public service." 

"But it's a stupid t-shirt and no one takes it seriously." 

He shrugged a single shoulder."Yeah,but hey,they have to consider themselves warned either way." 

Logan stood up,so used to teleporting now he didn't even feel disoriented,and then realized he heard music very distantly, probably near the back of the mansion."Havin' another party?" 

"The atmosphere was too tense around here.Things are startin' to get ugly in the world." 

"You just noticed?" 

"Fine.Uglier."He paused briefly."A lot's happened since you've gone." 

"Like what?" 

Bob came right up to him,and said,"Brace yourself,Brigid."He then grabbed his shoulder,and it felt like a grenade exploded inside his brain. 

"Fuck,"Logan shouted,pushing Bob away on reflex even though he couldn't see a damn thing.He stumbled back,sitting down forcefully on the bed after the back of his legs hit the edge,and he grabbed his head as the pain subsided and his vision returned.  
"What the fuck-"he began,but then he realized he knew everything that had happened since he'd been gone.Well,from Bob's point of view anyways."What the hell was that?" 

"My version of telepathy.See why teeps can't touch me?That'd put a permanent twist in their knickers." 

Logan rubbed his left temple briefly,as a pinprick pain bloomed and faded."But my brain could have exploded out my ears." 

"Nope.You're the only Human I've ever met who could actually serve as an emergency corporeal vessel for me if I ever needed one;your body doesn't even cave for me.Pretty bloody impressive." 

"You don't need a corporeal vessel at all,"he grumbled,rubbing his eyes. 

"Sure I do.How else would my pants stay up?"Bob said,giving him a grin that was equally hammy and sarcastic. 

Logan scowled at him,not really appreciating either his sense of humor or his assumption that he could take the pain of his 'telepathy',or whatever the fuck it had exactly been.The information overload was a bit bizarre,and it took him a moment to make sense of it,and even then it felt like he had lived several days in the fraction of a second."The Organization kidnapped Scott?!"He exclaimed,then laughed. "How fuckin' desperate were they?" 

"They wanted you,but they settled for him.He may be tighter than a sphincter dipped in lemon juice,but he's dangerous when you take his inhibitions and moral compass away." 

"A sphincter-"he began,then shook his head.A weird metaphor,but an apt one."Shit.How many people did he kill?"He realized what he had said,then rephrased it:"Did they make him kill?" 

"Thirteen in Maine.They haven't found Changan Junction yet,but my guess is maybe forty there." 

Logan shook his head,feeling strangely sad for the people of Changan Junction.Those he knew were just the types who gravitated towards towns on the borders of snowy wastelands:drifters,losers,loners,criminals trying to escape or hide out from various charges,truckers and nomads on their way somewhere else.People no one would miss. 

People like him. 

"Scott can't be taking this well,"he finally said,and it felt like the biggest understatement  he had ever uttered. 

Bob grimaced.If the physical shove had affected him at all,it wasn't apparent."Jean's helping him,and is a bit pissed at me 'cause she thinks I pushed him." 

"You did,of course." 

"Oh yeah.Otherwise he'd have gone completely bonkers."Bob paused,then jerked his head towards the right side of the room, towards the end of the hall where Scott and Jean's room was."You got good timing.They're about to leave,get away for a couple days.Jean thinks it'll do him some good.Actually,both of them some good." 

"What do you mean?" 

Bob grimaced again,this time with more uncertainty than pity."Their relationship was on shaky ground before you showed up,but neither of them knew it.This incident-and you-helped point out the screamingly obvious to them." 

Logan smiled."She wants me." 

"Well,duh.But truth be told,Logan,she wants something,anything,that might solve her problem." 

"Sissy boy fiance?" 

"Now now,Logan,that makes you sound jealous.What she really wants is to be happy.She's convinced herself she has everything she wants,so instantly-bam!-she should be happy.But deep down she knows she's not,and she doesn't know why." 

"Again,sissy boy-"he began,but Bob scowled at him,and he stopped.He supposed,if he was to be honest,he knew what Jean was going through."Nothing's that simple,is it?" 

"Happiness is a state of mind." 

"Easy for you to say.Be a mutant,and try and be fucking happy when most of the world wants to kill you."He snapped,with surprising bitterness.Now where had that come from? 

"I'm a demon.Believe me,I've been there." 

He scoffed."You're a demon,and I'm Mother fucking Teresa." 

Bob leaned against the door,crossing his arms over his chest.He didn't look angry,just thoughtful."We all suffer,although admittedly some more than most.But it's not only how we deal with it on the outside that counts.How we deal with it in ourselves counts more in the long run." 

Logan shook his head,swallowing back most of the anger he felt because it was all wasted on the unflappable,unreachable Bob. "You can pretend to be us,you can hear our thoughts and know what we feel,but you can't really know what it's like." 

"And I will gladly sling that one back at you." 

Logan stared at him,not sure if he should be insulted or not."What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" 

"You're not really like most mutants,are you Logan?You wannna cut the bullshit now?" 

He stood up,so instantly enraged his hands balled into fists at his side,even though he knew they'd be useless against Bob."What the fuck are you saying?" 

"I'm saying the old cliche is wrong.You know the one:'A coward dies a thousand times,the brave man only once.'Sometimes the opposite is true.That's certainly your experience,isn't it?"Bob shoved himself off the wall with a movement of his shoulder blades, and he let his hands drop to his sides.The look on his face was still thoughtful,but there was now an edge in it that looked quite close to impatience."You know why you don't feel any more at home with these mutants than with normals, Logan? Because they haven't been through what you have;they haven't died a thousand times inside,now have they?" 

"Shut up!"He demanded,so furious he could suddenly hear blood roaring in his ears,and his claws were almost itching to get out of his hands. 

(Why was he this angry?He didn't get it...) 

"It's time to stop the self-pity party,Logan,as much as you deserve one." 

He wanted to charged him.Not kill him,but plant his claws where they would hurt,but he couldn't move.Not a great shock, considering Bob probably knew what he wanted to do.Fight a telepath?Sure.But it still didn't work on Bob."Your greatest gift, Logan,isn't that you always heal-it's that you always bother to get up again.What these people need from you isn't your ability to do the dirty work they won't,although that's a close second.What they're gonna need from you most of all is your absolute refusal to give up,ever,no matter how overwhelming the odds against you,or how often you're hurt or even technically killed.Not that you don't give into despair now and then,or break down:you're still Human.But when it comes down to it,you have a "fuck you and the horse you rode in on" spirit that money can't buy.With most people ,it's just a 'tude that crumbles when the shit really hits the fan.But you and me have made chronic assholism a way of life." 

The anger ebbed somewhat,as he realized it was a strange sort of compliment."Assholism isn't a word." 

"But it should be,don't you think?"He then added,more seriously,"You know things are gonna get far worse before they ever get better.They're gonna need you to show them how to get through it,to survive the unsurvivable." 

Logan pondered what he had just said,and then realized:"You know something's going to happen.What?" 

Bob shrugged."I don't know.It's just a combination of logic and intuition.You look at the newspapers and tell me what you think." 

"I don't need to,"he sighed,able to guess the headlines after all this time.He was also able to guess why Bob had brought this all up-he wanted him to stay here,at least for now,not run off to search for more answers.Something suddenly occurred to him. "Wait-the Organization's gonna make another move against me,aren't they?You don't want me to leave 'cause you think somethin' will happen to me out there." 

Bob assumed an innocent look that didn't suit him at all."Why would you say that?" 

Logan tried to sift through all the memories Bob had given him,and something floated to the surface."Cranial implant?"He exclaimed,not sure if he should be angry,horrified,or some combination of the two."Fucking hell,was he serious?" 

"I wouldn't worry about it." 

"No,you wouldn't,it's not in your fucking head!" 

"I think it's destroyed." 

That made him pause,confused.With Bob,it would neither be the first time or the last."How?" 


	14. Part 14

"Well,I'd be really surprised if it survived me bein' in your body.But it was probably destroyed long before,when I infused you with energy." 

It took him a moment to work out what he was saying."You mean the time you brought me back from the dead?" 

"Well,you may have survived whether I intervened or not,but yeah." 

"But there's no way to confirm that the device is destroyed."He then remembered what had just happened,the feeling of something bursting in his head as all that information poured in,and he raised an eyebrow at Bob."Unless you just did that." 

Bob gave him a cryptic little smile,donning his mirrored sunglasses."Ah,who knows mate?I'm always up to somethin'. Speaking of which,I'm gonna have to pay a visit to Ganesha's little piece of the universe-he's having a bit of trouble I promised to help him out with-but I'll be back soon.I hope you hang around and spread a bit of wisdom here until I get back." 

"What wisdom?I don't even know my last name.Or is it first name?"He shrugged at his own question."And I don't like hiding." 

"It's not hiding.It's faking your enemy out by making him move and show himself.Of all people,I doubt I have to tell you about battle strategy." 

Well,he had a point.Damn him."What kind of trouble could Ganesha get himself in?"Logan only asked because he was curious what Bob might say. 

"Ganny's got a bit of a gambling problem,which is bad enough by itself,but when he gets caught using his entropy slowing powers to cheat,well,that's a whole 'nother story." 

"You have to bail him out of jail?"Of course he hadn't said that,but he could almost imagine that was leading towards it. 

"Ah,if only it was that simple,"Bob admitted wearily,though he continued to grin.He went to the door,and said,"Oh,one more thing.I may have a lead on this Org."He pulled a black automatic pistol out of the back of his pants,and popped the ammo clip so smoothly it almost seemed like a single motion.He then tossed him the clip,and Logan snagged it in mid air.It never even lost a single bullet. 

The bullets seemed more silver than the slugs he was used to seeing,but a single whiff told him why."Adamantium?"   
That scent was now hardwired into his brain. 

Bob nodded.Logan tossed him back the clip,and he caught it with one hand,slamming it back into the handle before slipping it back into the waistband of his pants.For a guy who rarely needed to use weapons,he had an easy grace with them."Adamantium jackets on titanium alloy hollow points." 

Logan grunted,slightly impressed."That'll take out a tank." 

"Well,it was meant to help knock you out,so yeah." 

That was almost flattering,in a strange sort of way."How is this a lead?" 

"Specialty bullets made with expensive metal.Somebody has to manufacture these,since I doubt Ogre does that in-house.I know a couple of places that make these kind of things;I'll just go around and ask a few questions.They think they're regretting coming after you?Wait until Maximum Bob gets done with them." 

It sounded like he was referring to an alter ego.Or maybe just his pseudonym."You're looking forward to a showdown, aren't you?" 

Bob's grin became impossibly wide."Ah hell yeah,mate.Aren't you?" 

It felt like he had been waiting all his life for a chance at these men,knowing full well that taking them on by himself was a joke.But Bob would make up for a lot of gaps in the net:after all,how did you fight a demi-god?"Oh yeah.We'll make 'em wish they were never born." 

"Oh,I'm sure we can do better than that,"Bob said slyly,and he had no doubt he meant it,even if he didn't know exactly what he meant. 

Bob left,and as soon as the door was open he could hear the music with more clarity,something loud and slightly dissonant that was probably giving Scott fits:just the type of music Bob seemed to like. 

He heard him singing as he walked down the hall,and wondered why Bob had never asked him about London.Then he realized he never had to;when he transfered information to him,he probably 'looked' at what he had to.Oh,he was going to nail that fucker for invasion of privacy.So what if he could hear what he was thinking anyways? 

"Hey,"Logan snapped,darting to the door. 

But when he looked down the hall,it was just in time to see Bob wink out of existence.It was just like that too-reality blinked.He was still walking down the hall,singing along with the song in the distant room,and then...nothing.It was like he walked into a hole in the fabric of the universe that sealed up the instant he passed into it.Maybe that's what teleport looked like from the outside-he'd never seen it really,only experienced it. 

Weird. 

Logan glanced around his room,and wondered if he should tell the others he was back,or simply wait until Xavier figured it out.And decide what he was going to do. 

Bob clearly wanted him to stay here;even that bit about the lead on the Organization was just extra incentive,a promise he'd be back with solid information they could both use.He didn't like be warned off,like he couldn't handle himself out there or against these fuckers:he'd done okay so far.For the most part. 

But after what he had learned about himself in London,he wasn't sure he wanted to learn any more. 

*** 

    Shortly after the party wrapped up,and what passed for silence (it was never really quiet,except for that time it was evacuated) fell over the mansion,he found Jean in the library. 

She was at one of the computers,enough of the screen reflecting off her wire framed glasses that he couldn't see her eyes,only feel them when she looked at him."Oh,hi,"she said,her voice equally relieved and tense.She was glad he wasn't someone else (or maybe she was glad to see him),but she wasn't in the mood for his company right now.She attempted a faint smile,and said,"You could have sent a postcard,you know." 

"I was havin' too much fun,"he replied,coming up to her table. 

The library was just that-shelves and shelves full of books,but it also doubled as the 'computer lab',explaining the tables full of computers that lined the room.He moved behind her to have a look at the screen,and leaned over close to Jean's chair,placing one hand on the edge of the table to prop himself up.He knew it made her damn uncomfortable for him to be so close to her,but it actually made it easier for his eyes to adjust to the computer screen the closer he got to it.A weird side effect of his mutation was that sometimes his eyes focused a little too well:he could spot someone miles away with crystal clarity,assuming he had the right vantage point;he could also find a chipped piece of tooth in a pile of pulverized white rock,focusing on them until he saw each separate granule of stone in the heap.But the in between states,the normal acuity for reading something at a reasonable distance,seemed to offend his corneas at times.He made a better hunter than a poet."Encyclopedia of Mythology?"He read,focusing on the words at the top of the browser."Huh.I thought I'd find you looking at something microbial.Is this for a lesson or something?" 

"No,"she admitted,and he sensed her discomfort increase,especially in the way she shifted in her chair.(She'd also started using a new conditioner on her hair-it smelled like raspberries and passion flower.)"This was more along the line of personal research." 

"Personal research?"He puzzled over that for a moment,trying not to stare at the side of her face (but she had a lovely profile),and suddenly realized what it might be."Is this about Bob?" 

Jackpot.She looked at him,her eyes widening in surprise behind the small round lenses of her glasses,and admitted, "Yes. After what happened in Dis,and now in Canada..." 

"You don't buy the demon story anymore?" 

She both shrugged and shook her head before glancing back down at the screen."I don't know what to believe.He's far more inhuman than I ever would have thought." 

He didn't know if he should mention the demi-god theory to her or not.Maybe he'd see what she leaning towards first before volunteering anything."Found anything that sounds like him?" 

"Maybe.There's a lot he could fit,but not really,if you know what I mean." 

"I think I do." 

"This one keeps coming up though." 

He leaned closer to the screen,as the font was small and crowded close together,but the picture above showed what looked like an odd looking cherub with flames for hair."Loki,"he read,then frowned."A Norse god?" 

She nodded,then read aloud:"Part god and part giant,Loki was a mixture of trickster and creator,and the embodiment of deceit.He could be a friend to the gods,but he also caused the death of the god Balder.He led his monstrous children and the souls of the dead against the gods in Aesir and therefore they were wary of him.Unpredictable and changeable,he was a shape-changer who could appear as anything from a giant to a puff of smoke.Led by him,he and his children brought about the destruction known as Ragnarok,the end of the world of the gods.Other names for Loki are the Sly God and the Father of Lies." 

"Well,I suppose it could fit.He's got enough kids.But he's no shapeshifter." 

"As far as we can tell." 

He shrugged,a sort of agreement. 

"The problem is I'd have to believe he was born as fire-Loki means fire-and I'd have to believe in Thor and Odin and Fenrir,the globe sized wolf."She closed the browser,and grimaced at him,embarrassed."I feel like a superstitious idiot." 

"Bob does that to us all,"he assured her,pulling over a chair and sitting beside her."He once told me ninety nine percent of mythology is bullshit,but it's the one percent that's not that we have to worry about."He decided he wouldn't tell her Bob had said he was off to visit Ganesha,not unless she asked. 

She smiled faintly,appreciating his effort to excuse her momentary lapse of reason."He doesn't really look Norse,does he?" 

"No.Looks Australian,though." 

"How so?" 

"It's hard to explain,but if you ask him nicely,he'll put on his cork hat,and you could see for yourself." 

She chuckled quietly,turning back towards the computer screen. 

"No,I'm serious.He has a hat with corks hanging down from the brim.He says he wears it to embarrass the kids." 

She shook her head,laughing louder this time."He is a very weird man.Thing.Whatever he is." 

"Life is an endless party to Bob.It must be nice." 

"It must."She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes,and said,with some surprise,"Rogue gave you your dog tags back." 

He looked down,grabbing them almost on reflex,his thumb running over the indents of the numbers and the word Wolverine embedded in the metal."Yeah.I convinced her I'd be stickin' around for a while.Also,I think it was startin' to make her boyfriend jealous." 

"Bobby?Nah,he's a good kid." 

"Better than I could ever be.I mean,if I was a teenage boy,I don't think I could date a girl I could never touch.I mean,for a little while yeah,but then I'd explode in a frightenin' mess of hormones." 

She smirked knowingly."All teenagers are a frightening mess of hormones.I'm surprised any of us lived through that period."She paused briefly,calling something else up on the computer,and said quietly,"I'm glad you're sticking around for a while." 

"Are you?"He wondered,studying her profile ,which was limned in the blue from the computer screen.In a way,she was a woman he couldn't touch,wasn't she?So why was he even wasting his time?"Uh,I was wondering if maybe you could help me do somethin'." 

"What?"She sounded slightly wary,and it made him want to laugh.What did she think he was going to say?Release pent up sexual tension?Join the 'Mile High' club?(Would she agree if he asked?) 

"Set up an email account." 

She raised an eyebrow as she finally turned to look at him."Wow.What brought that on?" 

He frowned at her."Why is this so shocking?Am I seen as Luddite or something?" 

That slightly insulting amused smile remained affixed to her face as she turned her gaze back to the monitor."No.It's just that...it means you can be reached by someone.You seem to prefer to be out of reach." 

Logan wondered if she meant that in more ways than one.Maybe she did.And maybe she was right."Well,cyberspace isn't an actual physical location.It wouldn't hurt to establish myself there.As long as socksnnoses doesn't find out." 

She gave him a curious look."What?" 

He shook his head."A long and frightening story.Did you know somebody put security cam footage from the Statue of Liberty on the web?" 

To his surprise,she nodded,her loose auburn hair sliding off her shoulders."It was pretty murky,though,and what there was didn't show a lot of what was going on.Good in a way,but also bad,as people can twist the footage to fit whatever agenda they have." 

"And they have." 

"Of course."She brought up what looked like a form on the browser,and frowned."Oh dear.You need a last name." 

"Smith,"he suggested,not actually caring what she put there. 

"Smith?That's so mundane,though."She graced him with a kind smile."You don't strike me as the mundane type." 

He smirked at her,and suggested,"Gray?" 

She smirked right back at him."Claus?" 

"Oh,that hurt."He thought for a moment,then threw up his hands."I don't care;put whatever you want there." 

She thought about it for a moment,then typed in the name 'Montague'. 

"Montague?"He repeated.Logan Montague sounded really weird and hoity toity,like he should be sipping cognac in a tweedy 'gentlemen's club' that smelled of pipe smoke and old newspapers. 

She shrugged a single shoulder."You make me think of tragic figures." 

It took him a moment,but he placed it-Montague was the last name of Romeo in "Romeo and Juliet",wasn't it?Was she implying he was a Romeo too?Even though the wimpy little prick offed himself,he was flattered.He bet she never thought of 'Clops as a Romeo. 

She typed in the address of the Institute as his 'home address',and then paused,her hands poised on the keyboard. "Hmm.We have to think of an email name and a password for you.I bet Wolverine has been taken." 

"Amnesiac?"He suggested facetiously."Nopast." 

She frowned at him."Selfpitying." 

"Dangeroustoknow." 

"Grumpygus." 

"Kingofthecage." 

"Oh,I like that one,"she said,quickly typing it in. 

"I was kidding!"He snapped,grabbing her hand to stop her. 

"Oh come on,"she said,smiling warmly at him.It seemed to take her a long moment before she slid her hand out of his grasp."Would you rather be loganthecrab?" 

He scowled at her,and let her finish typing it up. 

"Password?"She asked. 

"Jeanisasmartass,"he replied. 

To his surprise,she laughed."Seriously." 

"I am serious." 

She shrugged,and typed it in."I guess I'll have to change one of my passwords to Loganshouldtalk." 

"One?How many addresses you got?" 

"Several.I have one for members of the medical community to get a hold of me about mutant issues,but I keep having to change the address because anti-mutant activists keep getting a hold of it and spamming me relentlessly." 

"Give me their addresses next time.I'll take care of 'em." 

"That's what I'm afraid of."She finished typing,and turned towards him,hands raised in triumph."There you go- kingofthecage is all set." 

He shook his head,not willing to believe that was actually his email address.How was he going to explain that to Srina? 

She got up,smoothing the back of her red knee length skirt as she stood,and he asked,"Have I chased you off?" 

Her smile was almost pained."No,I'm done,and I suppose I have some more packing to do." 

There was a look in her eyes that seemed to suggest that she wanted him to try and talk her out of her little trip with Scott.But why would he bother?He was tired of dicking around.Of course he wanted her,and he knew she wanted him, but he wasn't going to play this game anymore;it was up to her to make her choice,and he was not going to let her string him along anymore."Have a good time,"he offered,almost sincere. 

Surprise flashed through her eyes,but that forced smile remained fixed to her face,never wavering."Thanks.I hope I'll see you when we get back." 

He looked away from her,moving to her vacated seat so he could be in front of the computer,and also so she could not see the pained look on his face."Probably.Maybe you can send me a postcard." 

"Maybe,"she agreed,and put her hand on his shoulder.His first impulse was to reach up and take her hand,but he ignored it,keeping busy by hunting and pecking on the keyboard instead.After a moment,she squeezed his shoulder,and then let go,leaving the library.He watched her walk away in the reflection of the computer screen,hoping she'd stop and admit she wasn't happy with Scott anymore,but no,of course not. 

She wasn't ready yet.But one of these days she'd have to decide if she was gonna give up on old One Eye,or see it through with him,whether she was happy or not. 

He focused on the keyboard and got to work on contacting Srina,if only to let her know he got back in one piece,and hoped she was okay (and not taunting the Claw Luvvers or,god forbid,sending them his way). 

He didn't know how long he was willing to hang around here,Bob's oblique warnings not withstanding.But he knew Srina may have had a point.While searching for the remnants of his old life,there was no reason at all why he couldn't try and start another. 

*** 

    It turned out to be a good thing he couldn't sleep,because he heard a noise outside. 

Logan quietly stalked the dark and empty halls of the mansion in his bare feet,heading towards the rear of the house. Whoever was out there (one person was all he heard-but that didn't mean there weren't more who were more gifted with stealth farther out) was trying hard to be quiet,but they were failing. 

As he went on further,a draft of cold air hit his skin,and he realized the door of the 'sun room' was open.A kid sneaking out? 

It was times like this he saw the wisdom in wearing pajama pants,but seriously,he missed sleeping without clothes on. Still,he had to be ready to fight no matter when,and while he had no problems fighting naked if he absolutely had to, there was no sense in making the other guys around here feel inadequate. 

As a slight breeze ruffled the hair on his chest and arms,he caught a familiar scent:Scott.And...an animal?Was he sneaking out on Jean with mammals other than bipeds?Oh,that would explain so much about him,but on the other hand,it would make him more interesting than he actually was. 

He padded softly to the open glass door and peered out.It was one in the morning and pitch black,a thin layer of velvety grey clouds hiding the moon and the stars,leaving the distant blue-white glow of the security lights the only illumination for the entire back garden.But he didn't really need the lights at all;everything was crystal clear to him, just dark blue with shadows,nothing more.And Scott was around the right side of the house,hidden from view by a couple of sprawling red twig dogwoods and a juniper that looked like Marge Simpson's hairdo gone nuts,but he could hear him hiss in a low but frustrated voice:"Would you get out of here already?" 

Logan just had to see what this was about.He crept out into the backyard,and up to Scott.He made no noise at all,and Scott never turned around. 

It was an interesting scene:Scott,in a t-shirt and pants almost too baggy for him,had cornered a rather large raccoon by the recycling bins,and boy was it mad.Even before it reared on its hind legs and bared its tiny muzzle of teeth, making a noise that was more weasel than cat hiss,Logan could smell the anger coming from it. 

"Friend of yours?"Logan asked,and Scott just about jumped ten feet. 

He spun around in a clumsy pirouette,hand instantly raised to his visor,and the stench of fear,sudden and acrid,made Logan feel obscurely bad.The guy was still probably freaked out about his capture by the Organization,no matter what Bob had done to ease the shock.Yes,it was Scott,but that wasn't reason enough to torture him.(Not quite...but close.) 

"Logan,"he hissed angrily,keeping his voice low."God damn it,would you warn someone when you're sneaking up on them?I almost shot you." 

"Coulda clawed you first,"he said,reminding him of the sim.Scott scowled at him,but he simply looked over his shoulder and nodded at the raccoon."There a reason you're harassing the big rat?" 

Scott continued to give him that deep frown,but turned away,suddenly embarrassed by his own fear."I got up for some water,and I heard a noise around back.I thought it might be...a kid,breaking out,but it was just this thing tearing things up.I tried to scare it off,but it's intensely aggressive.I was thinking it might be rabid." 

He knew Scott hadn't thought it was a kid breaking curfew,but exactly what Logan first thought it was-a hostile. It was an unsettling thought to ponder:him and Scott having the exact same idea.Almost gave him shivers.But he decided to let it pass,and let Scott have this one.He had gotten kidnapped and used in his stead,hadn't he?"Doesn't smell rabid. It's just lost its fear of people." 

Scott looked back over his shoulder at him."You can smell rabies?" 

Logan shrugged a single shoulder.He knew illness when he smelled it,and this raccoon-a twenty pounder,at least-was far from ill.Actually,if you could call an animal cocky,this one was,and why not?It had probably taken out a few domesticated animals in its nocturnal ramblings;it was a big male,and like big men of any species,it thought it was a stud. 

Logan looked at its beady yellow eyes,and growled;a nice,impressively big growl,baring his teeth in the same manner it had.The raccoon seemed confused,its growling sputtering out (he could just imagine it thinking:'Doesn't he smell Human?Sort of?') and then he held his hands out at the side,elbows bent slightly so the big rat had a good look at them, and popped his claws. 

Well,that was it for the rat.It immediately turned its big,fluffed out ringed tail and ran for it,almost stumbling in its haste to get the fuck out of there. 

"It ain't comin' back,"he told Scott,retracting his claws back into his hands.The big stud knew it was way outclassed here. 

"All I had to do was growl?"He asked,sounding amazed. 

"Well,yeah,and show your claws.You got 'em?" 

He looked to Scott with a smart ass grin,and got the prim frown he expected in return."Actually,you know what you sounded like?This big,mean Rottweiler that used to attack the fence when I walked past it on the way to school in the third grade." 

"I could take that too." 

It got the reaction he expected-Scott shook his head,and started back towards the sun room porch."Logan,you're... you remember you're Human,right?" 

"I'm not only Human,I'm the Alpha male,"he said,finding it hard to hold back the grin.He had so much fun taking the piss out of Scott;it was just too damn easy. 

And Scott continually reacted like he expected.He let out a small,derisive scoff,and replied,"I didn't realize we were a tribe of gorillas."He paused,and Logan waited a moment,just to see if the kid would go for it.He did."Well,maybe you're one,but..." 

Scott ducked inside,and Logan followed,almost sad to leave the cool air and open spaces of the garden for the more claustrophobic dimensions and filtered air of the house,but if he had somehow gotten used to working with assassins, he could get used to living around other people.Maybe if he told himself that enough,it would eventually become true. 

"You're such a dick,"he said,chuckling faintly.He was too;the Organization hadn't fixed that. 

Scott gave him a final scowl as he shut the glass doors and threw the locks."And you're a complete asshole." 

"As long as we understand each other,"Logan offered,then headed back down the hall,towards his room. 

It was faint,but he caught an amused scoff from Scott,and he knew he'd be okay,no matter what the Organization had done to him.A little lingering paranoia would probably be healthy for him,considering all the shit going down. 

He was almost jealous.Where was Bob to put his mind back in order after the Organization took him? 

Still,Logan knew the next time he went after the Organization,things would be different.He'd take Bob along for the ride,and maybe it was better to have him around to tear down the tower than to pick up the pieces. 

It was just another thing Logan told himself.But this one thing felt truer than the last,and he knew it would have to be enough. 

The End 


End file.
